Limelight
by Angel0624
Summary: Eighteen years have passed since Christine Daae saw the Opera Populaire. In those eighteen years, she had two girls; Elizabeth De Chagny and Victoria De Chagny (Elizabeth being the eldest). Tragedy strikes the De Chagny's and Elizabeth is left only with her sister, Victoria. Mamma (Meg) Giry takes in the girls, bringing them to the fabled Opera Populaire.
1. Limelight: Chapters One and Two

**_Prologue_**

October 29th, 1910

My heart beat twenty miles a minute as I backhanded sweat off of my forehead; my hands were ice cold as I touched the warm, red, velvet curtain that hid me away from the world. My legs became weak as I saw that the amphitheater was filled to the brim with people; I quickly shut the curtain and turned away, it was my first performance. Sure I practiced and practiced with Megan but being in front of all those people made it a whole different scenario entirely! My hands began to tremble as I heard M. Richard Andre tell the crowd that the performance would continue as usual, despite the gruesome circumstances. Your probably confused, dear reader, as to what I am describing; it's not a commonplace story at all.

Ha, far from commonplace, my life was normal once, or so I thought; all will come in due time, reader, due time.

_**Chapter One: A Remembrance**_

I felt a bit sick, so I slowly walked away from the curtain and collapsed into a small, blue, wingback chair that was used as a prop in Act IV. My head swam and my cheeks became hot, I couldn't believe this, how could I? A girl of such a young age acting as Margarita in a major opera? How could this be? An organ began to play a slow and melancholy tone, signaling to the ballet dancers to ready themselves to run, hop, or skip onto the stage.

My head fell into my hands which were still as cold as ice and as white as snow; all of a sudden warm fingertips touched my cold ones and I slowly picked my head up to find Megan standing before me with a worried expression plastered all over her face "Megan I...I don't know if I can..." I whispered.

"Easy, Elizabeth, hush now, we've been over this before, darling, you can do this! Why do you think M. Richard and M. Barnabus chose you over all of those other girls who auditioned? Because you're good, Izzy, your more than good, you're great! The first time I heard you sing I swore to Mamma Giry that it was the Harold angels calling to us; Izzy, your voice is so beautiful that no other being of this earth could top it, not even Christy." Megan said, Christy was the Margarita before I came into the picture; in this moment I felt all of my worries and woes melt away, Megan hugged me.

"Now, go show the audience how beautiful Elizabeth De Chagny can sing, I will be here, backstage with your sister" Megan added, I smiled and quickly nodded, I stood from my seat, refreshed and no longer ill feeling. The organ died away and the ballet dancers came giggling and laughing backstage; I smiled and waved to a little girl of only twelve years of age. Her hair was the color of molasses and her eyes matched; her skin was a bit tanned and her cheeks had the faintest touch of a blush. The little girl broke from her friends and ran into my arms, Victoria, my sister, Victoria.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, sissy, don't be nervous, sissy, momma's watching us!" Said the little naïve girl, I smiled and nodded; hugging her tightly. "Sissy, please don't be nervous, you're going to do fine! Besides it says on the pamphlets that you are the new Margarita, they won't expect too much of you, and then, when you sing they'll be blown out of their seats for sure!" Victoria cried, her hazel eyes sparkled and twinkled in the dim lighting of backstage.

Vikki (for, that is Victoria's nickname) reminded me everything of my father, she was practically a spitting image of him. Whilst I, on the other hand, looked like my mother in every way; my hair, blonde with the slightest touch of brunette from my father, my eyes a blue that matched the color of a spring lake and my skin, if you poured milk on my arm, you wouldn't even notice a change in color. My body was slender and I could easily fit into tight places; I am not very strong, in fact I am weaker than Victoria, and she is seven years my junior! All of a sudden the lively melody of several violins in harmony floated about the amphitheater, this signaled that my part was neigh a few moments; Victoria smiled and kissed the top of my hand quickly "You've got this, sissy, don't you worry, if you mess up; I'll run up on stage and create a diversion so you may slip away" to this proposal I laughed, but my laughter quickly died at seeing my sister's serious expression. Now, a drum was struck which told me to get ready, I slowly left my sister and Megan to walk to the middle of the stage; the large, red, velvet curtains rose to reveal thousands of eager people, they clapped and waited for me to begin.

I sang with all of my heart and poured my soul into each word that left my lips; my eyes would close but for a few seconds, only to reopen to the crowd and dazzling lights. On the final note I fell to my knees and raised my arms to the sky, going to my highest pitch and emptying myself into those final words.

_I give my soul to thee,_

_I plead, let my soul rest with thee,_

_I plead, let my soul rest!_

The crowd couldn't contain itself, everyone got to their feet and clapped wildly, flowers where thrown to me and screams of "bravo! Brava!" Came to my ears. I slowly got to my feet and bowed, even more flowers were thrown at me and I caught one; it was a daisy. I bowed a few more times and walked briskly to where Victoria and Megan were waiting for me; Victoria jumped into my arms and buried her head into my shoulder.

"What did I tell you! What did I tell you, sissy? You were absolutely amazing! I've never seen nor heard anyone sing that song more beautifully!" Victoria cried squeezing me and kissing my cheeks.

The next thing I knew I was upon the stage again and again, singing my heart out and astonishing the crowd; during Act V I saw a newspaper reporter with a camera in the back of the amphitheater taking photos of me upon the stage whilst the ballet dancers weaved perfect lines and circles around me. Suddenly, I felt a draft of cold air overtake the stage and I heard a creaking noise come from above me; I only glanced up, but I found nothing wrong and continued to sing. Now, I started to twirl and I felt someone grasp my dress and pull me backwards; I heard screams erupt from the audience as I fell upon my back and faced a man wielding a rapier, holding it high above me, as if to throw it down and stab my bosom. A shock of instant terror ran through my body and up my spine, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end; I couldn't speak or move, the man laughed. "Sing little birdy, sing" he growled in a rough, Irish, accent; the man had black hair and a black mustache along with beady, brown eyes.

I was paralyzed in one spot, my arms refused to move and my legs were frozen to the stage; all of this happened in a moment or two, but it felt like an eternity. The man lowered his rapier to my neck, tears of horror filled my eyes and spilled over, my jaw shook and my body trembled uncontrollably. "What? You're not even going to call for help?" Asked the man with a sneer.

"H-h-h-he-help" I whispered attempting to choke down sobs, in this moment there was a great clatter from above; it sounded like someone running, then there was a great _'snap!'_ and the sound of rope being pulled through a hanger very quickly; my eyes squeezed shut, all of a sudden I heard the man cry out and then a loud _'whump!'_ came to my ears. My eyes shot open to see the man on the ground, unconscious, instantly I felt a burst of energy and crab walked a few paces away from the man; I heard Victoria calling my name, and then I felt her skinny arms wrap around my shoulders. Now I felt a sensation I had never felt, I was weary, dizzy, hot, confused, and nauseous; I began to pant and fell backwards, my eyes looked up to the catwalk to see a darkened figure holding something shiny, I sighed and closed my eyes, only to awaken in my dressing room, a room I had only acquired that morning.

**_Chapter Two: Mamma Giry_**

October 30th, 1910

I sputtered and kicked as I felt a hot substance cover my face and body, I gasped and groaned; I shook my hands and wiped my face, it was water. I opened my eyes to see Megan, Victoria, Doctor Munroe, M. Richard, M. Barnabus, Mamma Giry, and Victoria's friend, Cindy. "You gave us a right scare there, Elizabeth, you've been out all night! Now it's well...to-morrow!" M. Richard cried handing me a soft, green towel.

All of a sudden the pink door to my room opened and in walked a fat man in an inspector's outfit; this man introduced himself as Inspector Henry Saddeninger, the inspector had orange hair and green eyes, his accent was unknown to me. I was lying in the foremost room of my dressing room; my dressing room consisted of two rooms, a sleeping room where my bed, WC, wardrobe and dressing screen were. The foremost room consisted of a living area, my desk, a mirror that was twice my height, and candelabra's that reached from the floor to over my head; my room's color was a dark red that was meant to match the curtains in the amphitheater. They placed me in the living area on a fainting couch, which, Inspector Henry now approached; the inspector got down on one knee and kissed my hand, taking off his hat as he did so. "Mademoiselle, I beg your pardon, but I must attain answers to some questions that no one can answer but yourself, and I need those answers this instant" said he, his tone when he said _'this instant'_ reminded me of when a child is naughty and the parent yells at them to do something _'this instant'_.

It was Mamma Giry, a friend of my mothers whom I have known since birth, who spoke up against this inspector. "Don't you see?" She asked, breaking from Megan (her daughter) and hastily walking to me; she kneeled down beside me and held my hands "the poor girl is weary, she's only just awoken from a night-long coma; give the girl time to collect her thoughts and calm down! As Elizabeth's legal guardian I demand you leave her be for an hour and a half at the very least; don't you see that she is still shaken? My gosh, I would be too if someone held a cutlass to my throat" Mamma Giry growled standing and staring daggers at the inspector.

"Mamma" I whispered meekly, Mamma Giry quickly turned to me.

"Yes, child?" She asked sweetly, holding my cold hands in hers; I smiled weakly to her and asked if I could speak to her alone. "Of course my child! Of course" Mamma only had to turn her head for everyone to go running out of my room, M. Richard and M. Barnabus pulled the inspector out whispering words of warning to him about Mamma Giry. "What is it, my child?"

"This whole affair is strange, Mamma, I-I just arrived here this morning...well, yesterday morning, and I've almost been killed; what's happening, Mamma?" I asked holding Mamma Giry's hands tightly in mine, Mamma Giry smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Child, sweet, sweet child; it seems to me that someone in this opera is jealous of your position as Margarita. I suppose that that someone hired that man to attack you, darling." After Mamma Giry finished my thoughts instantly pointed to Christy, the old Margarita, people rumored that she had an army of followers and she was very angry when I received the part after my audition. Mamma Giry saw me thinking of this and smiled "do not worry, child, do not worry at all; you are in safe hands now, very safe hands. Tell me, child, what did you see before you fainted?"

"I saw...well, it was a figure...a black figure and it held something shiny...the figure was tall and gaunt, and Mamma, it saved me. I don't remember how, but I remember knowing that it saved me...you probably think I'm going mental, don't you?" I whispered with a giggle at the end, Mamma Giry gave a soft smile and shook her head.

"No, child, I most certainly do not; for, I have seen this figure also. You are right, darling, this figure saved you by cutting a large sandbag free and the sandbag landed on your attacker's head; knocking him unconscious. The shiny thing you saw was a knife, darling, to cut the rope" Mamma laughed "your not round the bend yet, child, not yet" I chuckled but several hundreds of questions surfaced, who was this figure? Why did it save me? Did the figure sing in the opera?

These questions I attempted to ask Mamma Giry but she hushed me with the wave of her shriveled hand "child, you must be patient; suffice it to say that he is your guardian angel" said she softly, I nodded and Mamma smiled again, pulling me into a warm hug as she did so; all of a sudden there was a loud _'thump!'_ and my door was flung open to reveal Victoria, Megan, and the inspector in a pile on the floor; they had been listening at my door and the door had given way. "Well, my gosh! The rudeness! All she asked of was a bit of privacy between a godmother and goddaughter!

Oh, the idiocy!" Mamma Giry growled, she stood from me and balled her hands into fists, her eyes spat fire and I swore she could kill them all in her anger. The three quickly stood as straight as nails, Victoria and Megan remained silent whilst the inspector started to speak to Mamma, which was a very bad decision.

"Mademoiselle, I-"

"You, nothing! I was going to allow you to speak to Elizabeth afterwards, but now, now oh that is never going to happen! Get out of my goddaughter's room this instant!" Mamma Giry growled, her anger rose with every word spoken and her blood boiled, making her face turn a red color as she advanced upon the dumb inspector. Inspector Henry quickly bowed, not taking his eyes off of Mamma, and ran out of my dressing room; Mamma Giry slammed the door to my bed room and screamed "stay out!"

Mamma Giry sighed and fell, Megan reacted quickly and caught her mother, pulling her to a golden, silk chair that sat in front of my desk; I rose and quickly walked to Mamma Giry, Megan held her hand to calm her. "I cannot do that much more, girls, it takes an awful lot out of me; but I _will not_ have some inspector terrorizing my goddaughter...or any of my girls." Mamma Giry said with a smile to each of us, I smiled but something attracted my attention that was behind Mamma Giry; Mamma saw this and moved a bit to reveal a red rose with black lace tied around the stem, Mamma smiled at me and held it out to me. "This is for you, I believe" said she, I slowly grasped the rose and as Mamma let go of the rose she cried out and yanked her hand back to her, we all looked over to her hand to see that Mamma Giry got pricked by the rose's thorn on her index finger. A little dot of blood was the only evidence that she had gotten pricked, Mamma Giry laughed and licked her finger, wiping it free of blood.

Now my door opened once again and inside strolled M. Richard and M. Barnabus, the managers/owners of the Opera Populaire. "Well, Mrs. Giry you gave Inspector Henry quite the scare! He came running down the hallway as white as a sheet and mumbling, all we could make out was _'g-g-g-g'_ then he screamed and ran out of the Opera House; we followed him and he swore up and down that he would never set foot in this Opera House ever again. What on earth did you say to that man?" Asked M. Richard who stood before the elderly woman with a stunned expression.

"Oh" Mamma Giry said softly "nothing,_ that_ terrible! It wouldn't have made him run out screaming...I simply told him to stay out of Elizabeth's room, and to not come back; hardly something that would make him run out screaming." Finished Mamma Giry, Mamma Giry was the box keeper for the Opera Populaire, this meant that during shows she would cater to the people in the opera boxes and keep the boxes clean for guests. Now M. Richard and M. Barnabus looked at each other with curious glances and then stared down at Mamma Giry, who smiled devilishly and nodded to the managers, M. Richard cleared his throat.

"Well, Elizabeth...Megan...Victoria and of course, Mrs. Giry, a celebratory dinner is going to be held in one hour in the parlor...don't be late" M. Richard said with the wink of his eye and the tip of his top hat. M. Richard was a young-ish man of around late twenties with brown hair and amiable, hazel eyes, he had a brown mustache and wore a golden monocle along with a big, black top hat; M. Barnabus was a man in his early thirties with blonde hair and vivacious green eyes, he wore no glasses but always wore a black, bowler cap and the both of them were almost always dressed in tuxedos. After the two left I looked over to Mamma Giry and asked her what all that was about, all Mamma Giry did was point to the beautiful, blooming rose in my grasp and smile.

The door to my bedroom was quietly opened and M. Barnabus's head poked inside "girls, don't forget that to-morrow is All Hollow's Eve! In the lobby we will host a masquerade, your costumes are in the costume room with your names on the tags, good day!"


	2. Chapters Three and Four

_**Chapter Three: Dinner Party**_

October 30th, 1910

Megan grasped my hand and Victoria's and said her goodbye's to her mother, she quickly pulled us out of my room and down a dimly lit hallway "We're going to get our costumes, my, I wonder what they've chosen me to be this year; last year I was a terribly scary witch" said Megan with a giggle.

"Yes, I do seem to recall you as a witch, I was a dog I think" Victoria said "a St. Bernard of all things!" She cried with a laugh, you see, Victoria had gotten into the Opera Populaire at a much earlier age; mother actually let her go to the training school for the ballerinas, but for some reason I was never allowed into the Opera Populaire, Victoria and I never figured out why. "I do wonder what they've picked for you, sissy, I bet it's something wonderful!" Victoria cried, turning and smiling at me with her perfectly whitened teeth.

"I do hope so" said I with a smile as we walked through the golden lobby and over to the costume room. The costume room was littered with all different things, clowns, witches, ghouls, cats, dogs, birds, trees; absolutely anything and everything you could think of! "Wow" I whispered, baffled at the utter amount of costumes; Megan smiled and pulled me farther into the room which seemed to elongate as we walked, Megan gave a cry and pulled out a costume who's tag had her name written on it.

"Werewolf? Well" Megan sighed "at any rate it's better than an ugly witch" added she, I smiled and Victoria giggled, then Victoria gasped and pulled out a costume with her name on it.

"You passed the witch onto me!" Victoria cried unhappily, Victoria crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip, as if she was pouting. I smiled and Megan pointed out a white dress with blood stains on it and on the tag my name was written;"well, what is it?" Victoria cried, eagerly.

"It says here that it is _'Dracula's Bride'_" said I, admiring the dress, it was an absolutely charming wedding dress with fake blood all around the right shoulder; with it came a bouquet of black roses, false fangs, a tube of fake blood, a fake wound, and white high heels. Victoria then began pouting and groaning about how mine was so much better than hers; as we were walking out we heard two girls whispering gossip to one another, I heard a bit of it. The first girl with black hair was speaking, she said:

"Oh that was so scary! I heard they found Josh hanging between the Jacob's ladder and a scene from _Faust_; and he was in a noose! The police are sure he committed suicide, but I'm convinced it was the Opera Ghost"

"Opera Ghost?" Girl two cried in a whisper "what reason would the Opera Ghost have to kill Josh?" Megan pulled Victoria and I into a rack of clothing, so that we could hide and not disturb their conversation.

"Don't you remember? A week ago Josh claimed he saw the Opera Ghost and he was describing him to us, remember he grabbed Christy and we all thought it was just a rouse to get close to her and Mamma Giry came and stopped him? Apparently, the Opera Ghost got angry at him for giving away his description and...killed him!" Girl one said, terror filled her voice.

"I do remember! Oh, god!" Girl two paused and a strange look of realization came over her face "do you...do you suppose Mamma Giry is in cahoots with the Opera Ghost?" Girl two asked quietly.

"Of course not!" Girl one cried, then there was a pause...a very long pause. "Well...maybe...she has been at this opera for a very long time...in that time she'd have to...to...oh gosh..." I sat beside Megan, barley breathing, our hands clasped together and squeezing the other one; I became increasingly confused, who is this Opera Ghost? Why would he kill a man just for describing him? Most importantly, why would they think my godmother was working with him?

All of a sudden the door to the costume room opened and the two girls ceased their conversation; the two quickly walked out and after a few moments Megan, Victoria and I came out of hiding. I turned to Megan, but before I could get a word out of my mouth she held up her hand to silence me "no questions, ask Mamma Giry later; I'm not getting into this without her permission to" I closed my mouth and Megan led my sister and I out of the costume room_ 'why isn't anyone telling me anything?'_ I thought as I picked out a purple dress with black ruffles starting at the waist for the dinner; I quickly got dressed and opened the door that conjoined my and my sister's rooms. Victoria was sitting upon her bed playing with a china doll I had gotten her when she was five years of age; she looked up to me and smiled.

"Sissy...why have you never had a suitor before?" Asked she, looking at me curiously; it was true, I am nineteen years of age and I have never had a suitor before, Victoria (and everyone else who knew) thought it odd, apparently I'm very pretty. I sighed and walked over to her, sitting next to her on her bed.

"I guess it's because I do not want to..._'hound around'_ as you people say now, I want to fall in love with a man and stick with him, no matter the means or the consequences" said I, smiling down to my beautiful sister, she nodded.

"What if...the man isn't exactly how you would like him to appear...but you fell in love with him anyways?" Victoria asked, twiddling her thumbs.

"Victoria, darling, an appearance can always be changed; a personality cannot. To me, appearances do not matter; it is the personality of the man and the characteristics that matter." I answered, Victoria smiled and put her hand my shoulder.

"After the dinner party, I'll tell you who the Opera Ghost is; regardless if Mamma Giry or Megan wants me to or not" said she, kissing the top of my hand; we both hopped down from her bed and just as the clock struck the hour she and I arrived in the parlor where the rest of our fellow performers were. There was a long, oaken table covered in a white table cloth with silver plates, platters, and utensils. There was a large, silver chandelier above the table and hand carved, oaken chairs sat around the table; at each seat there was a name tag, everyone else was sitting so Victoria and I quickly found our seats and sat. The drinking and champagne glasses were crystal with a golden rim round the top; Victoria smiled as she saw Mamma Giry and Megan sit a few chairs down from us. The dinner was very merry and more than once someone would become too drunk and fell over; everyone would laugh and some would clap, as the dinner was winding down M. Richard and M. Barnabus called a toast.

"Let us toast to Elizabeth De Chagny! Let us toast to the success of _Faust_! Let us toast to poor Josh who, sadly, left us at an early age! Let us toast to the good health of everyone here!" Cried M. Richard whilst M. Barnabus laughed drunkenly, this toast was received warmly with everyone screaming _'here here!'_

Many crystal champagne glasses tapped together; of course most of these glasses broke by the heavy, drunken, hands of our fellow performers. I only tasted the wine which made me cringe as it ran down my throat; I was not an avid drinker, and I hated every time I had to drink the horrible stuff. All of a sudden someone came up behind me and placed and envelope before me with a red, skull seal; I turned to see the person, but no one was there! I slowly turned back and gently popped up the seal, careful not the break it, and out I pulled I tri-folded note that was written in a well-educated hand in black ink, the note ran thus:

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_Welcome to my opera house, I do hope you're enjoying yourself; I heard your beautiful voice from my opera box last night and I could not help but tell you how angelic you were...how angelic you are...your voice sounded that of a goddess and your figure made me feel as if I had gone to heaven. Ice is jealous of your unbroken, untouched skin; the moon shies away from your luminous face and flowers wilt at seeing your beautifully red lips. Your eyes cause the skies to darken in disrepute and in utter jealousy, for nothing can be a more gorgeous blue; gold cannot be spun as beautifully as your hair shines. It killed me, oh did it kill me to see tears stain your perfect face; my heart ached to see such a beautiful, frail creature so afraid; I apologize a million times over for not seeing you under attack until Mamma Giry ran to me. That man who attempted to hurt you will pay...I will make him pay with something worse than death; he will not escape me, no one does. _

_Dearest Elizabeth, sweet, Elizabeth, your voice is always replaying in my mind; my body tingles at those last words 'I plead, let my body rest!' oh, you sang that so perfectly, Elizabeth! At any rate, I wish you to have a great dinner and a wonderful night._

_With sincere love,_

_ The Opera Ghost._

My heart fluttered and in my gut butterflies flew freely, _'so this, Opera Ghost'_ I thought_ 'saved my life'_ all of a sudden a drunken Megan saw the envelope in my hands and burst into laugher. "Look everyone! Elizabeth's got a note from the Opera Ghost!" Her words were slurred but unmistakable; in this moment everyone started to snatch at the note, I pushed out my chair and, as I rose, my neighbor (not Victoria) accidently pushed me, causing me to fall to the ground, backside first. I quickly stood and Victoria ran to me, she grasped my hand and we started to run away, a group of people running after us; we ran and ran until we reached my dressing room and slammed the door behind us, locking it and I pressed my body against it as they beat on it from the outside.

_**Chapter Four: All Hollows Morning**_

October 31st, 1910

The drunken people finally stopped banging on the door at around midnight, an hour after Victoria and I ran from the dinner party. I sat on the floor with my back against the door as Victoria's eyes started to flutter to a close in the golden fabric chair before my desk; I sighed and read the note over and over again. _'Why is everyone so eager to get their hands on this?'_ I thought _'what would they've done with it?_' I asked myself silently; now, Victoria yawned and sat up "Sissy" she whispered, I then turned to her with a weary glance and she smiled sleepily.

"Sissy, what does the note say?" Asked she, I bit my lip, attempting to determine if I should tell her or not, "I swear I won't tell, I won't tell a soul; remember when it was mother's birthday and you threw her that surprise party? I told no one, you can trust me, sissy." She whispered, I smiled.

"Cross your heart, Vikki, cross your heart that you won't tell a soul...I do not know what the other's want with this, but I don't think it's good so, cross your heart." Said I, not moving an inch toward my sister, she smiled and crossed her heart with both hands; showing that she would never speak a word of it to anyone but me. I nodded and crawled on all fours over to her, for I was too weary to stand; I sat before Victoria and handed her the note, gone was her weariness, and gone her urge to sleep. In it's stead was electrified energy.

"Y-you got a note from the O-Opera Ghost! A very sweet note too!" She cried with the air of astonishment. My brows furrowed at her attitude.

"Why are you so excited by it?" I asked quietly, Victoria looked up to me from the note, her eyes were enlarged to the point that I felt I could play golf with one of them serving as the ball. Victoria now shook her head slowly, she turned a pale color and her lips turned an ashy grey.

"Not one performer has ever gotten a note from the Opera Ghost, sissy, the managers have only gotten but three and two of those were threatening. Mamma Giry doesn't even get notes from the Opera Ghost, and she's been here the longest!" Victoria cried, she was very excited, she paced about the room with the note in hand, mumbling softly to herself.

"Should I be worried, Victoria?" I asked, her pacing stopped and she stared at the note again, she glanced up to me and shook her head.

"Then what in the world-" I stood with a smile on my face and walked to her "are you so agitated for?" asked I, taking the note back; Victoria shook her head.

"It's just that _no one_ has gotten a note before; ever! It's so extremely odd!" said she with an exasperated sigh, she fell down into the chair before my desk and placed her right hand on her forehead "just odd" she whispered. Now there was a great pounding at my door, Victoria looked to me with worry filled eyes.

"Do not worry, girls, it's only I, Mamma Giry; let me in, Elizabeth" Mamma Giry's voice rang from the hallway, but was muffled by my door, hesitantly, I opened the door to find Mamma Giry standing before me, holding a box of English sweets and a bushel of roses with black lace tied round the stems. Mamma smiled haggardly and I opened the door wider to let her inside, Victoria stood and let Mamma sit down in the chair "I was cleaning the opera boxes tonight" said she, placing the English sweets and roses down on my desk "and I found those on the ledge of box five with a note consisting of the words _'to be delivered by hand to Elizabeth Daae'_ so, I am doing just that. Ah, what's that?" Mamma asked, motioning to The Opera Ghost's letter that was still tightly in my grasp. I handed Mamma the note, for I trusted her wholly and fully, and her eyes hungrily scanned the note; devouring each word and savoring each syllable.

Mamma Giry smiled afterwards "It looks like you've found your savoir" her smile grew from her wrinkled ear to ear "and you've found a suitor all at once" my cheeks became hot and my hands became wet with sweat, Victoria now smiled and took up the English sweets and roses; she smelled the roses and sighed, then she handed the sweets and roses to me. I opened the sweet box and gave Mamma Giry three and Victoria three, leaving me with three also; Mamma Giry smiled and closed her eyes as she ate her sweet. "The last time I had a sweet like this, the Opera Populaire was hosting a masquerade and I was only but a ballet girl, much like you, Victoria, and there was a box of English sweets at my chair in the make-up room; there was a note with it which read _'to Meg Giry'_ and nothing more. It was a child's handwriting, in red ink I believe" Mamma Giry said with a laugh "those were wonderful days" she whispered dreamily. "Now, Elizabeth" Mamma Giry whispered, coming back to reality "those wonderful days are upon you, for the Opera Populaire is a wonderful place to be" the grandfather clock in the corner struck one and Mamma sighed "off to bed with you girls!"

-I was woken by the sound of Victoria humming _'Warsaw Concerto'_ by Richard Addinsell, I yawned and sat up from my white, circular bed; the white, silk canopy was draped all around the bed and it gave my room a ghostly vibe. Victoria was sitting at my desk, writing something down when she glanced up and saw I was awake "Oh, good morning, sissy! Happy All Hollows!" She cried, jumping up from the chair and quickly walking to the side of my bed, pushing up the fabric and hugging me tightly. Then there were two, short knocks on my door and in strolled Mamma Giry, holding a beautiful, turquoise dress with designs of rubies, diamonds, and emeralds on the bosom and inlays of gold running throughout the dress; ruffles procured the sleeves and from the waist down on this dress.

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull, for this dress must of cost a fortune and a half! Mamma leaned the dress down to me and on a small tag on the dress there was a note _'To be handed to the beautiful, Margarita Elizabeth'_, the handwriting was the same from the note from The Opera Ghost! I sat before Mamma and Victoria with an open mouth, but out came no words; Mamma only smiled. "It was in my dressing room this morning, hanging on a door of my wardrobe" I shook my head and gingerly touched the dress, I was afraid it might disappear and I would wake up from this dream if I took up the dress in my own arms. "He wants you to wear it today, I presume" whispered Mamma, I turned to Victoria and asked her if I could have a private word with Mamma, to this she complied and with a bow she walked to her room and shut the door behind her.

"What is it, sweet child?" Asked Mamma Giry, sitting down on my bed before me and laying my new dress on my legs. I sighed and told Mamma about the two girls in the costume room and their conversation "do not listen to gossip, child, nothing good will come of it" she whispered patting my leg.

"But, Mamma, they seemed so scared; why would they be afraid?" asked I and Mamma Giry sighed.

"The managers angered The Opera Ghost when they first started, they thought the old managers were playing a joke on them and Monsieur Opera Ghost had to do a few...not so nice things to prove to them that he, indeed, was real. These things got around the Opera House and everyone thought that the Opera Ghost was going to hurt _them_, when it was just that the Opera Ghost was proving at point; that is how the rumors began, and that is why I tell you to not heed rumors." Mamma Giry said in a soft tone "is there anything else you would like to ask me?" Asked she, at that moment I was struck, I felt like she was psychic! For, I did indeed have something else to ask her.

"Yes...Mamma...do you work with the Opera Ghost?" Asked I, Mamma Giry began to laugh.

"Heaven's no, child! The Opera Ghost works by himself, I just do things that he asks of me; which are very rare, until now. Ever since you joined, there has been an influx in things he's asked for" she whispered, my brows furrowed.

"Wait a moment, when do you speak with the Opera Ghost?" I asked, sitting up straighter in my bed, I was becoming increasingly interested as our conversation ensued.

"In his box; box five. We don't really talk, child, he will leave notes or certain things on the ledge of the opera box, but every once in a while I will hear a voice whisper in my ear when I walk into his box." Said she, she says my eyes sparkled with wonder as she spoke; I asked what the Opera Ghost asks for and she smiled "a footstool" she said softly.

"A footstool?"

"Yes, he's asked for one almost every show; so I just leave one inside, near the ledge, along with his program for that evening. Sometimes he tips me, five francs or ten; if he's in a good mood." Mamma Giry stood and told me she would leave me to dress, just as she was about to leave I called to her.

"Mamma!" I cried and she turned quickly, "how many francs did he leave you on the night I sang?" I asked, Mamma gave a devious smile.

"Twenty" she whispered, Mamma Giry smiled told me 'good day' and left me to my thoughts...and the beautiful gift I never dreamt I would receive.


	3. Chapter Five

**_Chapter Five: Les All Hollows Mascarade_**

October 31st, 1910

My turquoise dress shimmered and shined in the chilly, October sun as I walked in the gardens of the Opera Populaire. In the backyard of the Opera Populaire there were acres and acres of gardens and plants, four flower gardens, two tomato gardens, a strawberry garden (which served as a pumpkin patch in the fall), three peach trees, four blueberry bushes, twenty grape vines (the Opera Populaire also makes its own wine), four apple trees, and two, large magnolia trees that were half the size of the Opera House! There was a small pond next to a white gazebo with chipping, white paint; beside the gazebo, on the edge of the pond, were two small, concrete benches. A brick path led to this pond and gazebo, next to these stood the two, tall, and proud magnolia trees; as I walked down the path, putting on a dark blue cloak as I did so, Victoria walked slowly behind me, watching the cooks pluck apples and pumpkins. The smell of cherry wood and something delicious filled the air around us, for the kitchen was very close to the gardens; so that the cooks could run out and get whatever they needed at a moments notice.

I then felt a small, warm hand slip into mine; I glanced down to see my sister looking at the wonder about her, the trees that surrounded the Opera Populaire were turning wonderful colors. Ruby reds, golden yellows, candy corn orange, chocolate diamonds, and of course, there were one or two evergreen trees. A soft, cold wind blew but Victoria and I didn't notice, for the day was clear (not a cloud in the sky) and the sun was dimmed from the coldness of the year; Victoria and I walked down to the pond, but as we were, I kept hearing an extra pair of footsteps, putting it off as one of the cooks I continued to walk my funny sister to the old gazebo. When we arrived, Victoria gasped and broke away from me, running to the pond and scaring off a dozen dragonflies, who only returned moments later in pure curiosity as to what on earth she was! I giggled and walked to one of the respectable magnolia trees, I then sat down underneath it and watched as Victoria observed a family of swans; I heard a great rustle of leaves above me and the next thing I knew the magnolia blooms fell off of the tree and landed in my hair, I smiled and stood, holding a bloom in my hand (which I placed in my hair) I attempted to look up into the great tree.

There was another rustle, caused by the wind, but I was sure that the first rustle was not; I touched the trunk of the tree and thought of climbing up it but that thought I quickly disregarded; this beautiful dress probably cost too much to go climbing up in trees in! All of a sudden the tree rustled again, causing more blooms to fall and stick in my hair; I smiled, and then I saw the flash of something black, like a black fabric. I gasped and quickly followed it, all of a sudden I heard someone growl a curse and a ripping sound came afterwards; then there was silence, I quickly walked to where I heard the din and found, on a high branch (that I had to jump to get to) there was a piece of black, velvety fabric that posh (rich) people use for cloaks; now I knew that it wasn't the wind. "What do you have there, sissy?" Victoria called from the opposite side of the pond, I shook my head and sat down again, examining the torn fabric.

After two hours Victoria and I began to walk back to the Opera House, and again I heard the extra pair of footsteps. All of a sudden Mamma Giry came out of the Opera House, looking rather worn and pale "oh, thank goodness!" She cried, throwing her arms around me and kissing my cheek, urgently. She pulled away from me and saw the magnolia blooms in my hair, she smiled and Victoria asked her what the matter was "do you remember that man who attacked you? Well, they found him in the parlor only half an hour ago; he was beaten and his head was severed from his body, his limbs were torn from his torso.

I thought that the man attempted to attack you again; thank heavens he didn't!" Mamma cried, throwing her arms around me once more, now I heard the door creak open once again but no one came outside...and no one went inside; it seemed that the door opened on its own. Mamma pulled away again and saw the piece of velvety fabric in my grasp, Mamma smiled and wrapped her arm around me and held hands with Victoria as we all traveled inside.

**_Three hours later..._**

"Oh my goodness!" I cried admiring myself in the large mirror in my room, I put on my costume and held the black roses, but I had yet to put on the fake wound, blood, or have my hair fixed. "I feel like a vampire already" said I smiling and observing my false fangs. Victoria pouted, she wore a black, witches hat along with a long, velvety, black gown that was cut awkwardly at the sleeves; she wore green and black tights along with buckled, black shoes. Her face paint was green and she had a fake wart on her nose; I smiled pitifully at my sister and patted her shoulder "maybe, next year, they'll pick me to be the witch" said I softly, Victoria sighed and shook her head sadly.

Megan Giry and Mamma Giry entered my room, armed with curling rods and a make-up kit, they called me over and sat me down in the golden fabric chair; Megan put on the fake wound and worked on my face make-up whilst her mother, Mamma Giry, curled my hair. Megan turned me two shades whiter than I already was (face, neck, chest, and arms she did this) and put dense, black, eye shadow around my eyes; she made the eye shadow very thick. A grey lipstick was applied to my lips, and the wound was applied with expert concentration and the seams were...well...seamless! Megan gooped just enough fake blood on my shoulder to make it appear that I was _actually_ bleeding! Mamma Giry curled my hair to perfection and shook some white stuff on the top to make it appear as if my hair was aging; I was amazed at the expertise of those two, they hugged at seeing the wonderful results of their work.

Megan made a wonderful werewolf, and her mother, Mamma Giry, was a ghost; she cut two holes for eyes in a white sheet and threw the sheet over herself; I grasped Victoria's hand and we all walked to the lobby for a wonderful All Hollows Masquerade!

**_Ten minutes later..._**

Music from a gramophone the size of my wardrobe floated about the lobby where couples were dancing to the song _'Hungarian Dance in G minor' _by Brahms. Hundreds of candelabras were around the perimeter of the room, and mirrors were strategically placed to capture the light from these candelabras and throw them to different places in the room; also, in a large fireplace that was about my height there was a large fire that was crackling and dancing with the music, creating a warm glow in the room. Victoria pulled me to a small table to the left of the room (the dance floor took up the entire right side of the lobby) and all four of us sat, until Megan's suitor, John, whisked her away, to the dance floor. Then a little boy, no more than thirteen, dressed as a warlock came up to Victoria and asked to dance with her, she looked to me with pleading eyes "what are you looking to me for? Go, darling, go!"

I cried with a smile, Victoria kissed the top of my hand and walked to the dance floor with her new suitor. "His name is Timothy" Mamma Giry said, looking over to me "he has a close bond with the Opera Ghost" she whispered, and I asked her how. Mamma smiled "because, he is just like the Opera Ghost...sweetheart, Timothy is a ghost; he died at the age of thirteen here in the Opera House...and he is cursed...just like the Opera Ghost. He's also had his eye on your pretty little sister for more than a while now, and that runs vice versa; your sister has had a crush on him since she saw him." Mamma Giry said tapping her foot to the beat of the music.

"Wait! What? The Opera Ghost is...dead?" I asked, my voice shaking a bit.

"Oh, dear, I didn't mean_ 'dead'_ I meant_ 'immortal'_ darling" Mamma Giry held my hand "You see, he and Timothy found a serum that made them immortal...there are two halves of that serum left...one for each of their beloveds. For, their curse in drinking that was that they can never leave the Opera Populaire until they find_ 'the one'_ so to speak; the one woman who loves them truly and wholly." Mamma Giry said, I felt the blood return to my cheeks and extremities, I sighed in relief and I could tell by her eyes that Mamma Giry was smiling; I knew she knew how I felt. All of a sudden a man dressed in a white domino walked over to Mamma Giry and whispered in her ear; she gave out a chuckle and told me she would return in a moment, I sighed and started twiddling my thumbs in utter boredom...that's when Mamma Giry came back, but she wasn't herself.

"So, what would you like to do now, Mamma?" I asked, and glanced over to Mamma, her eyes seemed funny...they were dark and mysterious and they followed my every move, noting it and waiting for me to do something else; her gaze was scrutinizing...yet...I wasn't afraid, I wasn't shocked, maybe a bit stupefied and of course, I was amazed. I felt her eyes staring right into my soul...reading my most private thoughts...listening to my most personal desires...tearing through my most sensual dreams; she sat there, quietly, watching me. I thought of going to the WC to collect my thoughts, but just as I was about to tell her, her hand shot out and grasped my shoulder, holding it gently; I looked down and her hand was in a black glove...I followed her arm (which was in a black shirt) back to the white sheet. "Mamma.." I whispered, she brought her other hand up from her lap and placed her gloved, index finger to her lips; signaling for me to be silent.

My heart I felt slow my body felt limp...everything about her had changed, Mamma held my hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it softly many times; her dark eyes stayed locked on me, watching my reaction. Mamma's eyes are normally a sparkling hazel, a vivacious hazel that never dimmed; but these eyes were shining black. My breath was caught in my throat, my hand was kissed once more and then she pointed to the dance floor, I smiled and nodded; she jumped out of her seat and quickly pushed it in, running to my seat and pushing it in before I could get a chance to. Mamma's grip on my hand tightened as we walked out to the floor, then I noticed something else about her that changed dramatically...she was three feet taller than she normally is...one foot taller than I am...


	4. Chapters Six and Seven

_**Chapter Six: Les All Hollows Mascarade (Part Two)**_

October 31st, 1910, 9:30pm

The song '_Dies Irae Requiem'_ by Mozart now sounded from the huge gramophone, Mamma twirled me and danced with me at a very fast pace. Our hands were interlocked, her gloved hands interlocked with my pale, cold hands; as the music boomed she twirled me and broke our hands, she regained me again and held my waist whilst she wrapped my arms around her neck. Mamma was three feet taller than she normally is, (one foot taller than I) which surprised me; I didn't think they made heels that big! All of a sudden she twirled me again and at the table I recently vacated there sat a ghost...a short ghost with luminous, hazel eyes; the ghost had tan, wrinkled, old, hands with long nails and I knew in that moment that I was dancing not with Mamma, but with someone else. The person didn't see that I saw Mamma at the table, and continued to dance with me; their hands on my waist and my arms wrapped around their neck again, I looked up and stared into this person's eyes...they were a glimmering black now, still I felt that the person knew my most intimate thoughts and stared deep into my soul, figuring out my most honored desires.

The person's grip was gentle and yet...it was tight, as if to hold me with them; the person's grip tightened and the person slowly dipped me down, holding me close to the ground for a few moments and then quickly pulling me back up, letting go of me and twirling me as my feet touched the floor of the lobby once again. The person then pulled me from my twirl and my hand touched the person's chest; I was pressed against the person's chest and torso, I felt the warmth from the person and the gauntness of the person. The person was male and the person was skinny, but strong; very, very strong. We danced like that, the man's hands holding my waist whilst I was pressed against his chest; I felt as if I was in a trance, moving with his motions and following his actions, his left hand let go of my waist and stretched out.

My left hand slithered from his chest, up his arm and locked fingers with his left hand, his right arm wrapped around my waist and held me to him whilst my right arm hugged his back (for, it couldn't wrap fully around him). We danced like this in short strokes (his legs were long, but for his every one stroke of his step, were two for me) for a very long while, until the Managers tapped on a champagne glass and told that dinner was to be served in a few moments, so to find your seats at the table. I looked up at this man and his left, gloved hand touched my cheek, gingerly; and his right, index finger traced my jawline. Our left hands intertwined and he led me to the table, straight to my spot, he pulled out the hand carved chair and I sat down; never losing eye contact with him, he pushed me to the table and nodded to me "w-wait!" I said in an urgent whisper, the man turned back to me, his black eyes gleaming in the candle light "aren't you going to eat?"

The man shook his head and walked back to me, kneeling on one knee he kissed my hand, looked up at me, stood (nodded again) then he walked away; he walked up stairs leading to the second floor in the lobby and I never saw him come back down. My sister quickly sat beside me, a smile plastered all over her face "you danced so wonderfully! I didn't even know you _could_ dance! So, who was that?" She asked, she talked so quickly and with such energy, it made me smile.

"Vikki, I can't dance; I don't know who that was..." I said slowly, even though he walked away from me I still felt as if I was under a trance; and every time I blinked or closed my eyes his black, mysterious eyes were staring back at me. "But" I whispered, gaining Victoria's attention again "whoever he was...I like him" said I so extremely softly that Victoria had to lean very close to me to hear what I said; she gasped and clapped her hands in joy. Dinner that night was Shepherd's Pie and chips or a Pastry-wrapped, Cranberry Brie; I had the Shepherd's Pie, and for desert there was a choice of Red Velvet Cake with hand whipped Cream Cheese frosting or French Toast cupcakes. As M. Richard came around, taking orders I felt inclined to do something "Monsieur Richard" I said

"Yes, Margarita?" Said he with an amiable smile as he held his pen, ready to take my order.

"Monsieur, there's a man" I pointed to the second level "up there...and I...well, I...wanted to.." said I fiddling my hands as my cheeks blushed, M. Richard smiled and wrote something down on his pad, I craned my neck to see what; he smiled.

"One Red Velvet cake slice for the Margarita and one for the man" M. Richard smiled, I thanked him and before he left he leaned down to me and whispered in my ear "I'll give you yours first, and then I will give you his, oui?"

"Oui, oui" replied I, smiling at M. Richard, he smiled and continued taking everyone's orders. As the dinner wore on and I almost finished my cake, Megan got drunk again and Mamma Giry had her escorted to her dressing room by a security man, Timothy sat next to Victoria and kissed her cheek; making her blush and return the favor. Mamma Giry walked and switched seats with a man who sat next to me.

"That man in the black domino has had his eye on you all night, Elizabeth" Said she with a smile, to this comment I peeked around her to see a brunette man with blue eyes staring back at me; he waved to me to which I gave a weak smile back. "You don't fancy him? He comes from a very wealthy family; he is Aaron Benjamin, son of Jasper Benjamin, you know, they founded Benjamin gas and oil? They're multibillionaires, Elizabeth" She whispered to me, I smiled fakely and finished my cake.

"No, I most certainly do not fancy him; I have met him before, in another pretense and another disguise, he is an utter prat to anyone else who is a social class below him; never mind his looks or money. All of his hair may fall out and his money may run dry, he will lose his _'friends'_ and he will end up a bitter, old man with nothing. But all of his life he will remain a prat; for a personality is hard, near impossible, to change; Mamma, you should know that." I hissed in a very low whisper, Mamma Giry's eyebrows rose at hearing my tone, Mamma nodded and I turned to M. Richard and nodded, he smiled and a few moments later I was handed a slice of Red Velvet cake; Mamma's eyebrows furrowed "I'll tell you later" said I, standing and walking for the stairs. I rounded a corner and came to a darkened staircase, with one hand holding the plate and one hand on the banister I slowly walked up the stairs and came to a hallway with a red, lush carpet.

There were beautiful archways to the right which opened into the lobby where I could look down and see my fellow performers dinning and laughing. To the left there was a dark brown wall and a few dark brown doors which led to prop rooms, all of these doors were closed and I walked the entire length of the second floor (which ended in a dead end wall), my brows furrowed...until I saw that the very last prop door was open; but there was no light inside. I peeked inside and turned on the light, but no one was there, I sighed, turned out the light and closed the door; I walked back to the middle of the second floor and walked to one of the archways, I placed the cake on the ledge and watched the candle light twinkle downstairs. In this moment I felt eyes staring at me, attempting to gain my attention; I then heard a cough behind me and I turned to find the man in the ghost costume standing before me. "Hello again" said I with a smile, the man bowed, I quickly turned and took up the cake; whilst I was turned the man came very close to me "I-I know you said you weren't hungry...but everyone deserves something sweet...especially on All Hollows" said I, quickly glancing up to him and then back to the cake; I felt my cheeks betraying me and turning a pink color, which you could clearly see through my make-up.

The man's eyes never strayed from my face, I glanced up to him again to see him staring into my eyes; I then felt him take the cake from me and set it down on the ledge beside me, he held out his gloved hand. I smiled with my cheeks still pink and slipped my hand into his, his eyes had softened when he saw my nervousness and they now shined against the white sheet; he turned me so that my back was to him, my hands griped the ledge as I felt his gloved hands sliding around my waist. My pulse skyrocketed as I felt him push all of my hair to one side of my neck and he set his head down on my shoulder, his hands left my waist and slowly, came forwards, slipping oh-so nervously over mine as if I was going to yank my hands back. I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes, then I just listened to his breathing, slow and even; his calmness calmed me and reassured me...but reassured me of what? At the moment, I didn't know, and didn't care, all I knew was I felt secure and for once these past few grievous months I felt...happy.

_**Chapter Seven: Les All Hollows Mascarade (Part Three)**_

October 31st, 1910, 11:58pm

We stood there, like that, for at the very least twenty minutes; my eyes remained closed and I just listened to the sound of his breathing. Then I felt his right hand lift and tap my arm, I opened my eyes to see that he was staring at me...and probably had been; my blush returned. He raised his right had and tenderly touched my chin and cheek, then he looked beyond me and pointed behind me; I turned to find a large, golden clock face only moments away from striking midnight, I smiled as I heard my fellow performers calling out the seconds "56...55...54..." they called. The man turned my body towards him again and lifted my left hand up, flattening my palm; "45...44...43..." they continued, the man put his hand inside the sheet and started rummaging for something; "36...35...34.." the man found it and brought out his hand again. "27...26...25..." the man placed something velvety in my hand, but kept his hands wrapped around it, the man leaned close to me; "19...18...17.." my eyes closed as I felt the man's nose touch mine, his hands moved to my waist, pulling me even closer to him.

"10...9...8.." they screamed, the man's lips grazed my cheek; "...5...4...3.." I started to breathe quicker and I could practically taste his breath "...2...1...Happy All Hollows!" they all screamed, as they said "1" the lights went out and the man...disappeared. My eyes opened and I stood there for a moment, my hands trembling, my breath quick, my pulse was so quick that I heard it reverberating in my head, and my legs shaking; my hands were warm and slowly closed around the small object, I looked down to see that it was a black, velvet box. Slowly, I opened the box and found a golden ring studded with large diamonds on a golden necklace chain; my breath was caught in my throat as the beautiful ring shimmered and gleamed in the candle light. I put my hand down beside me, to steady myself, and expected the cake to be there; but when I looked down the plate and cake were gone and in it's place there was an envelope with my name written on it in red ink.

I picked up the envelope and held the necklace close to my heart, then I did something I would've never expected I would do; I took the ring out of the box and slipped it on my wedding finger. I stood for a few moments and marveled at it's beauty, until I heard my sister's quick footfall; I gasped and ripped the ring off of my finger, hastily putting it back in its box and closing the lid. "Sissy?" She called, I turned and she ran up the stairs "Sissy, Mamma Giry told me to come get you...it's after midnight you know" said she, then she saw the box and envelope in my hands "who's that from?" She asked.

"I don't know" I whispered, shaking my head "i-it was from the man...t-the man I was dancing with" I said softly, opening the lid again and staring at the ring. Victoria ran up to me and 'ooh'd' at the ring.

"That's so beautiful!" Victoria cried breathlessly, I nodded and agreed with her.

_**10 minutes later...**_

Victoria, Mamma Giry and I arrived back in my room where I showed Mamma the necklace, she smiled and told me to open the envelope, this I did and took out another tri-folded letter, there was a note inside, it ran thus:

_Loveliest Elizabeth,_

_My dear, your radiance stuns me, and your beautiful eyes paralyze me where I stand. As we danced I felt your grace and fragility, I feared if I tightened my grip of you too much that you might have broken. Nevertheless, that was the best dance I have ever had...darling, you could have climbed the tree in your dress; I wouldn't have minded. Do what you will with the ring...wear it as a necklace...leave it on display or...let it grace your finger, any I am fine with. I had a most wonderful evening and night with you, Elizabeth, may you have the best of dreams._

_P.S. the cake was absolutely amazing...thank you, Margarita. _

_With All Love, _

_ The Opera Ghost._

**_Two hours later..._**

Mamma Giry and Victoria left me, my make-up was gone along with the fake wound and fake blood; but my dress and hair remained as they had all night. I sat upon my bed with my necklace in hand; I closed my eyes and sighed as my fingers ran over the jewels. But that wasn't was I was thinking about, no...far from it, actually; as I closed my eyes I saw The Opera Ghost's eyes staring back at me. Those mysterious, wonderful eyes...I opened my eyes when I heard the clock strike two, I sighed and slipped the ring back onto my wedding finger; it felt so warm, almost like it was happy to return to my finger. I took the necklace chain off and placed it on a side table, along with the box "I'll wear it on my finger" I whispered, pulling up the covers and slipping into my bed.

November 1st, 1910

I woke to find the ring still gracing my finger, but everything else had changed; I was no longer in my costume dress, I was in a pink night gown. My hair was washed and lay in many curls on my shoulders; as I sat up Mamma Giry's voice came to my ears "I washed you, on his orders, he wanted you to be comfortable when you slept; I expect you did seeing as it's ten o'clock during the day!" Mamma Giry walked to my bed and smiled "you decided to let it grace your marriage finger" she whispered then there was a short pause "You know...funny thing about that finger" she paused and put her hand on my leg "they made that a person's marriage finger because that is the only finger that has a direct link to the heart...tell me, Elizabeth, how did you feel when you put it on?" she asked, I smiled.

"...I felt warm and...happy, I was happy...and I still am happy; but when I take it off...I'm not happy anymore" said I, Mamma Giry smiled and touched my cheek with her worked hands.

"Well, don't take it off, then." Said she softly, I smiled and nodded.

_**Three hours later... **_

Aaron Benjamin had been spying on me all day, at least, that's what Mamma Giry said to me when Mamma and I sat on the concrete benches near the pond whilst Victoria played with the dragonflies. The sun was high in the sky and I rested my head upon Mamma Giry's shoulder "Mamma" I whispered "why does the Opera Ghost hide?"

"He likes to be mysterious...he also likes to watch you from afar, so he can see you do your daily activities without his interruption." Mamma Giry answered, holding my hand.

"When does he watch me?"

"All the time, Elizabeth, he never takes his eyes off of you...unless your in the WC." Mamma answered as Victoria played 'follow the leader' with a slimy, green toad. Now I heard the great magnolia tree rustle once more and I heard the door open simultaneously; a butler who's name was Gerard walked to Mamma and I, he wore a tuxedo and carried a silver platter with three lemonade cupcakes on it. Gerard had slicked back, blonde hair and squinting, blue eyes; he also had a posh air to him, he stood as straight as a nail with an upturned nose and addressed Mamma and I. Victoria saw Gerard and came running up to us before Gerard could speak.

"Mademoiselles, complements of Master Benjamin" Gerard held out the platter, Victoria smiled and quickly grabbed her cupcake, stuffing it inside her mouth; Mamma took my cupcake and gave it to me. I waited and watched as Gerard left, shutting the door quietly behind him, I sighed, turned the cupcake around, then I stood and walked to the pond and tore the lemonade cupcake apart; throwing it to the swan family.


	5. Chapter Eight

**_Chapter Eight: The Ring_**

November 1st, 1910

"That was a waste of a perfectly good cupcake!" Victoria cried, bits of cupcake flying out of her mouth as she spoke.

"I do not want association with such a negative and arrogant man" I growled sitting back down upon the concrete bench, crossing my legs and arms.

"...I don't care about that! I wanted the cupcake!" Victoria groaned as her mouth finally became clear again, I smiled and told her she would get cupcakes later. There was a pause where the wind whispered through the trees and tickled the fallen leaves, pushing them into small piles upon the ground; Victoria turned and walked back to the edge of the pond, where the baby swan came up to her and pecked at the ground before her. Mamma Giry sighed and patted my leg.

"What happened to make you hate him so much?" Mamma asked in a quiet tone, I sighed and watched the sun light sparkle on the pond, making it seem as if there were diamonds upon the water. I looked down and fiddled with my ring for a moment.

"I was going to the store to fetch medicine for mum, I don't believe you knew this but mum had tuberculosis; the doctor prescribed mum several medicines. Now, mum, dad, Victoria and I lived in the country so everything was quite spaced apart, at this time dad was also sick with something called 'The Red Death' so he couldn't go to the apothecary to get mum's medicine and the doctor was on call other places also. So, leaving Victoria home with our parents, I walked eight miles to the apothecary; now, I had to stay awake most nights to tend to our parents so I looked far from my best! My hair was an absolute nightmare, around my eyes were black circles, and my skin was paler than it is now; I looked affright! Anyways, I was in the apothecary and I received a telegraph from Victoria that our mum was coughing up blood so I needed to come with all speed.

Naturally, I told this to the pharmacist, who worked very quickly; and then, _he_ came inside. That day I wore a long, dark green trench coat, a blue, cotton scarf that my grandmother made for me, a large brimmed, dark green sun hat with a yellow band around the top, and little, flat, black shoes I just got from the cobbler, for it was winter and very cold. _He_ laughed at my attire, but I didn't care, I needed the medicine; then the..._he_ pushed passed me and demanded his medicine be made before that...oh how did _he_ word it? _'Low life scum'_ ah, that's it. The pharmacist attempted to speak up for me, but that horrible man yelled who he was and demanded the medicine for his ailing uncle; he slammed one hundred francs on the counter and said that it be made before anyone else's.

That evil man looked over to me and smiled saying_ 'sorry, darling, if you are indeed a woman; my uncle is very precious to me'_ and then I lost my temper._ 'Well'_ I growled, my tone was very low _'my parents mean the world to me_**, ****_sir_**!" Oh, I could've ripped his head from his body that day!" I paused and Mamma Giry patted my leg "anyways" said I with a sigh "the pharmacist finished his medicine and then walked to me and whispered _'yours is done, hurry and go home...there's no charge; go to your parents'_ so I did just that. When I arrived home Victoria was crying in an armchair in the corner...dad was gone and mum was hanging on by a hair; I went to her and quickly gave her the medicine...but she didn't make it.

Her last words were _'I will send the Angel of Music to you, darling, when I am in heaven with your father. The Angel came to me, and I regret ever leaving him...do not leave the Angel darling, it will be the worst mistake of your life; it was of mine.'_ Then she rolled over, closed her eyes and fell into an unwaking slumber." I whispered, tears came to the sides of my eyes and threatened to spill over, Mamma Giry enveloped me in a large and warm hug, I inhaled her wonderful perfume which smell of lilac and ginger; she spoke soothing words to me and kissed the top of my head.

"Well, your mum is no liar. Christine never was; she has indeed sent the Angel of Music to you, Elizabeth, and he's watching you; right now! Rather, she sent _you_ to the Angel of Music, calm down, sweet child, we don't want Victoria to see her idol crying, now do we? Exactly, now dry those warm tears and wear a smile, look at your beautiful ring, don't just glance at it; _really_ look at it, Elizabeth, look into it...now...what do you see?" Asked Mamma Giry in a soft, amiable tone.

Holding my hand out before me I stared deeply at the pure, golden band with large, shimmering diamonds; I saw myself, staring into the ring, all of a sudden, someone else appeared behind me! It was a man, a man in a ghost costume! The man I danced with just yesterday night! The Opera Ghost...the man who gave me this ring, the man who put a smile on my face after so many months of a frown. In the reflection he put his hand on my shoulder...then, in reality, I felt a warm hand gently hold my left shoulder; I was shocked and excited at the same time, all these emotions and thoughts flew across my mind at the speed a train flies through the country.

I kept my left hand before me, but my right hand went to my left shoulder and lay on the Opera Ghost's gloved one. I felt my heart stop as I felt a_ real_ glove and a _real_ hand, _his_ real glove and real hand; a wave of satisfaction and relief crashed over me, I smiled and it was reflected in the diamond. The Opera Ghost's hand tightened and then relaxed, then tightened...and relaxed; it was apparent that he was massaging my shoulder, this thought made me warm and made my heart melt (in a good way). I turned and caught a glimpse of a white sheet, then I turned my entire body to find that he vanished again! "But...but...but...he...he was...he was just here!

Not five seconds ago!" I cried, quickly turning to Mamma Giry who giggled and wore a smile upon her face, my confusion attracted the attention of Victoria who quickly walked over to us.

"Who?" asked she, I stood and started looking all around, craning my neck to see past the grape vines and apple trees. Victoria sat in my spot on the concrete bench, her cheeks were rosy and she was a bit out of breath from chasing butterflies and dragonflies (and pretty much any other flying insect...other than bees...we're afraid of bees and spiders).

"The Opera Ghost" said I with a bit of annoyance, peeking through the apple trees, I saw a bee on an apple and I quickly backed away, careful not to disturb it; Victoria echoed his name after me and started questioning Mamma Giry, who answered all of them with patience and a quiet smile. "Where could he have gone...?" I whispered placing my index finger on my chin, I whispered this more to myself than to Victoria or Mamma.

"Elizabeth, did it ever occur to you" Mamma Giry started as I scanned the Magnolia tree "that the Opera Ghost might not want to be found at the moment? Maybe, he just wants you to _know_ he's there without him _actually_ standing beside you" My eyes flicked over to Mamma Giry who shrugged her shoulders, I sighed and nodded; Mamma smiled and at this moment M. Richard and M. Barnabus came through the door and took up my arms, M. Richard taking up my right and M. Barnabus taking up my left, they were singing _'Farewell and Adieu'_.

"Join in the shanty, Margarita!" M. Barnabus cried, I smiled and listened to what part they were singing in the song.

_Now let every man drink off his full bumper,_

_And let every man drink off his full glass;_

_We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy,_

_And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass!_

I then noticed that the two managers had stopped singing and were smiling at me, my cheeks instantly turned a light pink whilst the two managers chuckled "I know I picked the right soprano to be the Margarita!" M. Richard cried, my blush only deepened. "Well, Mrs. Giry and Miss. Victoria, the practice for Act III of _Faust_ will be in half an hour's time, do not be late!" M. Richard said with a wink an a chuckle.

"W-wait, aren't I going to the practice? Where are we going?" I asked quickly, looking from M. Barnabus to M. Richard.

"Of course, Margarita, of course! You're the star of _Faust! _As to where we are going to...well...someone has asked for you presence...immediately" M. Richard said with a twinkle in his eye. At hearing this I gave a silent gasp and my mind instantly turned to the Opera Ghost _'oh, he's asked for me...oh my...this is wonderful!'_ I thought, a large smile crossed my face, and was only brought wider when we approached a door labeled _'Special Guest Entry Only'._


	6. Chapter Nine

_**Chapter Nine: Meeting Him, Again**_

November 1st, 1910, 12:30pm

The black door labeled _'Special Guest Entry Only'_ quickly opened after M. Richard knocked on it twice, standing before us was the butler, Gerard. "Ah, Monsieur's...and Margarita; your presence has been much anticipated, pray come inside." Gerard said slowly, his nose never turned down, he opened the door wide enough for the three of us to walk inside arm-in-arm (which is exactly what we did); the room was magnificent! White, marble floors, oaken couches and a large oaken table stood in the middle of the room, over a brightly colored tapestry; a black, marble fireplace that was as tall as I am stood, attached to the left wall. A silky, golden fabric covered the couch cushions (this fabric also served as curtains for great, floor-to-ceiling windows on the right wall) in the very back of the room there was a great, white, marble staircase with golden and silver designs and inlays.

The three of us were led to the hand-carved, oaken, couch where we were handed pure silver champagne glasses and in was poured _Château de St.-Cosme, _a wine that was voted best (and most expensive) in the world. M. Richard and M. Barnabus gulped down their wine and happily asked for more, I only sipped on mine; sure it tasted sweet, but I am not a fanatic of wines or alcohol in general. "The Monsieur will be with your shortly, gentleman...madam" Gerard said slowly, he bowed to us, placing the wine on the table before us and leaving the room; I could barely hold myself together in the time that we waited, to actually meet that wonderful Opera Ghost? Oh, I nearly jumped out of my seat in excitement! M. Richard noticed my excitement, then his brows furrowed.

"Who do you think we are meeting here, Margarita?" Asked he, crossing his legs and lying back, resting on the couch as he shook his hand, making the wine slosh around in his glass. M. Barnabus remained sitting up, with me.

"The Opera Ghost, of course, who else would call for me?" I asked, then the managers gave each other a worried glance, I saw this glance and my brows furrowed as M. Richard's had only moments before.

"I would" A voice rang out, I quickly turned and saw Aaron Benjamin standing in a dark blue tuxedo on the staircase, his brunette hair was gelled back and his blue eyes sparkled with something I thought was malicious intent. The managers and I stood as the man walked down the rest of the staircase and joined us, shaking hands with the managers and just staring at me "Now, what's this about an Opera Ghost?" Asked he, staring at me.

"Oh, Master Benjamin, I assure you it's nothing, a friend of the Margarita's...that's all" M. Richard said wrapping his arm around me and hugging me with a fake smile to Aaron, Aaron gave me a sly smile and then his eyes flashed down to my hand.

"I see you've been wedded...who is the luckiest man in the world?" Asked he taking up my hand and admiring the ring.

"She hasn't been wedded...that ring only fits her marriage finger" M. Richard said, again with a fake smile to Aaron.

"Ah, so the position is still open, wonderful, here...Elizabeth, let me give you the grand tour" Said Aaron, forcing my arm into his and dragging me away from the managers, I mouthed words of help to the managers, but they only shrugged and mouthed back words of apologies. Aaron showed me all over his rooms, chatting about passed adventures, holidays to foreign countries, or mishaps in Paris; all of these stories fueled by inanimate objects in each room. "So, what do you think?" Asked he, bringing me back to the lobby room in which we started; the managers were gone, but Gerard reappeared, carrying biscuits and tea.

"I think" I started as Gerard poured my tea into a cup and added two blocks of sugar "that you've been to a lot of places" Gerard now handed me my cup and I sipped from it. Aaron wore a smile and chuckled.

"That I have...someday I hope to bring you with me" Said he, staring at me from behind his cup. Aaron didn't perform in the opera's he only watched them and bought a room to see the behind-the-scenes of a performer's life. Most of the ballet girls and chorus girls talked much of his eyes, they thought them 'dazzling' and 'memorizing'; these traits I did not see, I saw the beadiness of his pupils and the darkness of the color. I set my tea cup down and Aaron cleared his throat, setting his down as well "Elizabeth, you sang so beautifully that my heart was taken from my chest and delivered into your outstretched palms...I doubt you saw me in opera box three with my breath caught in my throat at your utter brilliance. I know I might be a little too straightforward with this, but I felt as if my heart was going to explode if I didn't tell you exactly how much I...I..I love you."

Aaron had gotten up and kneeled down before me, holding my right hand with both of his hands; his lips feverishly kissed my hand, I felt him gulp and look up at me with pitiful eyes. "I've never had anyone steal my heart before, Elizabeth, but you have; pray, I beg of you, tell me you feel the same! Tell me that your heart belongs to me and no other! Tell me, Elizabeth...tell me.." he cried, his yelling reduced to a whisper at the end; his soft lips connected with my hand once more, I remained mute, and then I felt a draft of cool air come about us. I sighed and turned away from him, closing my eyes as I did so.

"You don't remember me...do you?" I asked, turning back to him, his eyes looked those of a starving puppy dog who is begging for food, and for once, I felt pity for this man. His brows furrowed, but he never let my hand go back to me, he shook his head after a few moment of thinking, I sighed "Do you remember, it was about a year ago, that you walked into an apothecary and demanded medicine for your ailing uncle? By the way...how is he?" I asked softly.

"He has all but healed, the doctor gives him five more years of his life because of my speedy return with that medication" Aaron replied, no doubt, not seeing the relevance in any of this.

"Good...I am glad to hear" my eyes glassed over and Aaron sat beside me on the couch, his left hand quickly went to my cheek and gently held it. I coughed "You, no doubt, remember the woman in the trench coat" continued I, Aaron nodded.

"I regret pushing that woman out of the way...but my uncle...he was on the verge of death and I panicked...I wish I would've said sorry or gotten someone else to help; I shouldn't of done that." He whispered, his hand moving to my chin, I smiled and nodded.

"Well, you can say sorry now" Said I, a tear spilling over my eyelid "it was I in that trench coat...that haggard, weary, horrid looking girl was I; it is good to hear that your family member survived. For, both of my parents died within moments of my return, I was not speedy enough with the medication...nor speedy enough with my trek home. My father died when I was running home and my mother died five minutes after I administered her medication" tears now streamed down my cheeks and Aaron wore the face of complete and utter surprise...which quickly turned into guilt and regret. Aaron fell from the couch and landed on his knees before me, his hands were pressed together and he stared at my tear stained face.

"I know you will never forget this horrible...beyond horrible...irrefutable thing I did, but I beg of you to find it in your wonderful, beautiful heart to forgive me. I know what I did was wrong...beyond wrong...I should've been fined for ever touching a woman harmfully. Please, Elizabeth, I'm begging you...pleading you to forgive me! Elizabeth there couldn't be a more wonderful, brilliant, alluring woman in the world besides yourself, and I will do anything...anything at all that you wish...Elizabeth...let me give you what you have been deprived of...love. Let me love you and give you happiness!"

Aaron now sat again on the couch, I stopped crying and Aaron held my hands...I started to feel sick. "Elizabeth, please, let me put a smile back on your tear stricken face...let me be your haven when everything goes wrong...me, beside you to guard you and to guide you! Let me be your love...allow me to be the one you smile at every morning and every night...please...Elizabeth, my heart aches and wanes every moment you are not by my side...I've never wanted anything or anyone more! Elizabeth, all of the day and all of the night my heart cries out for you, it screams your name in my head...begging me to ask for you, please, forgive me Elizabeth, I did not know things would end up as they have...and if I did I would've demanded _your_ medicine first and let you ride in my dogcart all those miles to your home. Elizabeth, I cannot say how sorry I am enough, please, Elizabeth, give me a chance to love you...and if that is too much, pray forgive me...please."

I began to feel dizzy and the cool draft came in much, much colder now; making my skin get goose bumps. Aaron saw this and quickly took off his tuxedo jacket, then he wrapped it around me and stared at me hopefully, I looked down and started to fumble with my ring. All of a sudden the a unseen, grandfather clock struck one and the butler, Gerard returned "Sir, the Monsieur's call for the Margarita, for the practice of _Faust_ that they will be performing to-morrow night" I quickly stood, and as I was about to walk away Aaron's hand shot out and grasped a tight hold of my wrist.

"Please, Elizabeth, I do not want you to leave on such terms...know that I will do anything for you...anything at all, and that I am so extremely sorry, my love." I gulped and gave a small nod, with that I left the Vicomte on the couch and walked as fast as I could to the stage where I quickly rejoined Victoria.


	7. Chapters Ten and Eleven

_**Chapter Ten: Practice of Act III**_

November 1st, 1910

Victoria's hand slipped into mine "who's jacket is that, sissy?" Asked she, looking up to me as the managers conversed quietly and the performers broke into groups on the stage.

"No one's, darling" I replied, taking off the Vicomte's jacket and laying it on the blue, fabric chair prop; revealing my violet dress that my mother gave to me as a Christmas present. I glanced up from Victoria to find Christy staring in disgust at me, she quickly turned back to her two friends, one was Dawn, a tenor with black hair and evil, brown eyes and the other was Mary, a brunette with shining, green eyes. Victoria told me that Mary had only recently been recruited to Christy's little gang; Christy, herself, was a blonde like me, with green eyes and a hard look to her face. Ever since Mamma Giry and Victoria convinced me to audition for a space in the Opera Populaire family Christy has loathed me; Mamma says because I am a major threat to Christy, but I feel that something more is going on than just_ that_ jealousy. The managers turned to us and called us to their attention.

"My wonderful chorus girls, ballet dancers, sopranos, tenors, and my delightful Margarita...we are saddend to say that only one act out of _Faust_ we can perform, for, someone has slashed all the other background scenes." Gasps came from the girls, then the girls started to whisper. "Never the less" M. Richard continued, silencing the girls "the scenes will be mended by to-morrow, the show will go on! But, for now, we must practice Act III, Elizabeth-or should I say Marguerite, to your window to sing to Faust for his quick return! To your places everyone!"

M. Richard cried, everyone started running and bumping into one another, attempting to carry out M. Richard's commands. After a few moments, the stage became quiet and all eyes turned to me, I sighed and felt my hands turn ice cold; the words I remembered so clearly, but my voice wouldn't spill from my mouth until the music from the piano began. I sang, like I sang only nights beforehand, pouring a bit of my life into every word and feeling my energy drop with every phrase.

_ Fain would I know the name Of the fair youth I met? Fain would I his birth and station also know? _

_His manner was so gentle! 'Twas true politeness!_

_I knew not what to say! My face red with blushes!_

At this moment, someone knocked on a cardboard door to my character's cottage.

_But what is this? From whom did this splendid casket come? I dare not touch it — Yet see, here is the key! — I'll take one look, how I tremble — yet why? — can it be Much harm just to look in a casket? _(A 'casket' in this pretense isn't something that you bury someone in. It's just a box.)

Now, I opened the red, silken box covered in shiny jewels, and my eyes had never beheld such beauty; the necklaces and jewels were _real. _No props, no plastic rubies or diamonds...these were _real; _you see, my uncle was a jeweler and cut stones for a living, he taught me the real from the fictional...and these were as real as it got. A ruby in a jewel studded, silver, bracelet was the size of my thumb nail! There was a beautiful, diamond necklace and the diamond could completely cover my eye! My breath was caught in my throat...and everyone thought I was acting.

"Brilliant! That's exactly the reaction I want from you! All of you, look at this, look at Elizabeth's acting skills! See how she looks so surprised and baffled at this gift, I want the rest of you to act in your lines as wonderfully as she does! Well done, Margarita! Well done" M. Richard cried, standing from his seat and clapping, I looked up from the box and gave a nervous glance to Victoria, this glance I also gave to Mamma Giry.

_**Two hours later, after practice finished...**_

"Mamma, Victoria, come close and look! See how they sparkle and shine? Feel them...feel their weight? They're real!" Said I watching Victoria's eyes enlarge as she put the diamond up to her eye and peeked through, Victoria now pulled the diamond away and rummaged through the jewelry; then the little ballet dancer gave a cry.

"Sissy, sissy look! It's an envelope with your name on it!" She cried, breathlessly; I pushed to Mamma the box and took up the envelope with trembling hands, anxious to hear what the Opera Ghost said.

_Lovely Elizabeth,_

_These jewels do not even begin to explain your beauty, but please, take them as a token of my appreciation and love. Beautiful Margarita, look not to the faces made by the horrid soprano called 'Christy' but to your own, in your mirror. Think not of her jealousy and think not of the Vicomte's pleas...think only of your fairness and wonder of voice. If you will think of nothing else...think of me. You will, no doubt, delight the audience as you have done before in your performance in Faust; and I am so eager to hear your voice reverberate from the walls once more. Whilst Christy sings to bring down the chandelier..._

_P.S. How did you like the English sweets? _

_Love, From Box Five,_

_ The Opera Ghost._

I read this note in a whisper to Mamma Giry and Victoria, for, we were still backstage and I feared of eavesdroppers. I looked up to Mamma and smiled, I had an idea...a wonderful, awful...idea.

_**Chapter Eleven: The Vicomte or the Opera Ghost?**_

November 1st, 1910, 5:00pm

"I do not know if that is wise, Elizabeth" Mamma Giry protested at hearing my idea, "he needs his time alone, and that time is spent there...Elizabeth he _never_ lets anyone in whilst he is there!"

"Yeah, sissy! Let's just go back to your dressing room and...what did he tell you to do? Oh, yes, _'look in your mirror'_ then, you must write to him about the English sweets!" Said Victoria with animation, I shook my head.

"Dearest sister, how am I to get the letter to him if it is a _'bad idea'_ to go to his opera box?" Asked I, Victoria's brows furrowed, but Mamma Giry smiled.

"Because, if you go then you'll have a note and a reason to be there...if you go now it's out of pure curiosity...and...well, you know the other, darling" said Mamma Giry, I sighed and nodded, defeated I walked with them back to my dressing room; every once in a while stealing a glance back to box five.

_**Ten minutes later (in my dressing room)...**_

Mamma Giry placed the box of jewels down on my desk whilst I stood in front of my mirror with Victoria and made funny faces. "I don't think that's what he meant by_ 'look at yourself in the mirror'_ children" Mamma Giry laughed as I made a fish face and crossed my eyes; Victoria laughed until her face turned red. Then, there was a knock at my door, to which Mamma Giry answered; before her was Gerard, Vicomte Aaron Benjamin's butler.

"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle, I come with gifts from the Vicomte" said he, his tone changed to a jovial one and his nose was no longer upturned! He kissed the top of Mamma Giry's palm and whispered sweet things into her ear, (secretly, Mamma Giry and Gerard were seeing each other) Mamma Giry giggled and her cheeks turned light pink.

Gerard coughed, turned and snapped and within moments ten butlers were in my room! Laying down pastries, jewelry, dresses, chocolates, fruit (some I had never heard of), and gift boxes that were wrapped in an assortment of colors. After all the gifts were placed and the other butlers gone, Gerard walked to me and bent down (Gerard is tall, and I sat down in the golden fabric chair) placing an envelope in my hands; my name was written upon it in golden ink. With a kiss to Mamma Giry's cheek Gerard softly closed my door and left us, Victoria instantly ran to the chocolates and began to stuff her face whilst Mamma Giry scanned the dresses I received. Reluctantly, I opened the letter from the Vicomte, it ran thus.

_Elizabeth,_

_My, your beauty stuns me! You're acting skills are as wonderful as ever, as we all saw to-day, yes, Elizabeth, I watched your awe-inspiring performance. May I say how imaginably captivated you kept me? How my heart throbbed when you sang of the youthful suitor? If only I played the part of Faust!_

_...I would shy from your ruby lips and sapphire eyes, for I feel unworthy of such a staggering woman. Enjoy these, Elizabeth, love them the way I love you; to-night you and I are to dine together, Elizabeth, I count down the minutes until our meeting at seven o'clock to-night, I shall call for you at your dressing room._

_With Love,_

_ Vicomte Aaron Benjamin. _

I sighed and laid down the note "are you going to go, sissy?" asked Victoria as she stuffed another bon bon into her mouth.

"What choice do I have? listen here, it says _'to-night you and I are to dine together'_ he doesn't ask me, he tells me." I shook my head and sighed "for a moment...just a moment I thought he had an ounce of humility and I pitied him" I paused and ripped the note in half "no more" I finished, throwing the shreds of paper onto the floor and rubbing my face in frustration, at myself. I sighed, stood, and walked to my desk; I then produced a piece of paper and a pen, I wrote a note to the Vicomte.

_Vicomte,_

_I am sorry to say that I cannot attend dinner to-night, other plans were made beforehand which cannot be canceled or moved to a different date. I am sorry._

_Sincerely,_

_Elizabeth._

I smiled at my note whilst Mamma thought it cold and Victoria thought it mean. "What are you going to do? He'll see you at the performer's dinner to-night and he'll be heartbroken! He'll inevitably still come to your dressing room, so where will you hide when the witching hour comes?" Victoria asked, gulping down a small bar of chocolate and looking to me with a curious glance. I sighed and looked up to Mamma, a smile appeared on my face and I ran back to my desk, writing a note as fast as I could.

"There!" I cried, handing Mamma a letter "now will I have a reason?" I asked, Mamma sighed and smiled, nodding her head, I jumped up and down for a moment; unable to hide my excitement. Then, the dilemma came of what to wear, I ran to my wardrobe and ripped through my clothes eager to find a dress worthy of meeting the Opera Ghost again in. At six o'clock I was using curling rods to curl my hair when there came a knock on my door, I gasped and ran to the inner room, hiding behind a curtain. Mamma Giry opened the door and I heard his voice fill the air.

"Hello, Mrs. Giry! I've come for Elizabeth" said he happily, I smelt the perfume of ginger and mint as I attempted to be as stiff as a board. I heard Mamma sigh and she did something I couldn't believe.

"She's reading herself now, I thought you were coming at seven" said she, my heart fell to the floor like a bag of bricks, I was stunned by her betrayal and I couldn't help myself when tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over. All of a sudden there came a cool draft of air and it swirled about me, my eyes closed and I felt a warm hand on my cheek; I opened my eyes to find a very handsome man. He was tall (for he sat on his knees before me and I could tell he had long legs) and wore a long, black cloak, on his head he wore a black, wide brimmed hat. His hair was black and gelled back and his eyes were the same black, mysterious eyes I saw at the masquerade! This was the Opera Ghost!

He wore a white, half-mask on the left side of his face, he was clean-shaven, chiseled chin, and his masculine features made me stare in amazement. He wasn't as gaunt as I thought him to be, and I could see, by the way he held himself, that he was strong, not just mentally strong...but very, physically strong. His gloved hand wiped away my tears and he stared at me, probably wondering why I was crying; my tears were gone, but he held my cheek, his hands were very warm and gentle. His free hand I held with both of my hands, I lifted it to my face and kissed it softly; the Opera Ghost gave a small smile, which in turn, made me smile. A moment or two later I heard Mamma call for me, but I made no motion to move from behind the curtains; I stared into the Opera Ghost's eyes and mouthed to him that I didn't want to go.

The Opera Ghost smiled and nodded, out of his cloak he drew a note which he gave to me; he leaned closer to me and kissed my forehead. My heart stopped in my chest as his lips stayed connected for a few moments and hesitantly, they left; just as quickly as he came, he vanished, right before my eyes! After a few moments of stunned silence I quietly unfolded the note and read it to myself.

_Wonderful, Elizabeth,_

_The window to your right is unlocked, go through that window and into your sister's bedroom; through there you can sneak to the amphitheater and into box five. There you and I will rendezvous and I will have dinner waiting for you._

_Love,_

_The Opera Ghost. _

My breath was caught in my throat, _'dinner what that wonderful Ghost?'_ I thought _'oh this is indeed amazing!'_ I heard Mamma Giry sigh and I heard her apologize to the Vicomte; I left my curling rods on my desk, where they were burning into the wood. Mamma turned these off and came into the inner room, I watched her heels hit the floor and then she turned to the curtain I was hiding behind. I begged and I pleaded every god I knew the name of that she wouldn't find me...but all was in vain.

Mamma pulled back the curtain where she heaved me up, fixed my hair, took the note, and pushed me into the foremost room. The Vicomte straightened up at the sight of me and offered his arm to me "Mademoiselle, are you ready for an enchanting night?" Asked he, smiling down to me (the Vicomte was around six foot or six foot one inch).

"Quite" said I, softly, his smile enlarged and he wished Mamma Giry and Victoria a great night. "Where are we going?" Asked I, silently brooding.

"Well, I know a quaint little Bistro in the General Square I was planning on taking you to" said he, he noticed that I didn't have much enthusiasm and his brows furrowed "we don't have to go there if you don't-"

"No, no! It's fine...really, I've just got a headache...that's all" said I, he nodded and went on to talk about Gerard getting frequent headaches, he stopped talking and looked down to my dress, it was the beautiful red dress I planned on wearing for my dinner with the Opera Ghost; Aaron was about to turn away from the stage, when I stopped him. "Could we, walk on the stage? I just love to" Said I and of course, he complied. As we walked across the stage I stared up to box five, but I didn't see anything, again my heart fell; that's when sickening thoughts came to mind.

What if the Opera Ghost thinks that I have feelings for Aaron and stops communicating with me? What if the Opera Ghost thinks I tricked him? What if...? I dare not think of another question, for my eyes glassed over but, blaming it on the weather, the Vicomte thought nothing of it. In the Vicomte's dog cart he wrapped his arm around me, trying to _'keep me warm'_ is how he phrased it.

I sighed and looked out of the window to find that another dog cart came out of the Opera Populaire's stables and followed our dog cart. I said nothing of it to the Vicomte, he noticed it on his own. "My, that dog cart has followed us all the way from the Opera House...wonder if it's Mrs. Giry coming to spy upon us" said he turning to me from the window, I smiled and said that it was very possible. The Vicomte sat back again and we were silent the rest of the ride to the General Square.


	8. Chapters Tweleve and Thirteen

_**Chapter Twelve: Quaint Little Bistro (Cobblestone Road)**_

November 1st, 1910, 7:00pm

The Vicomte helped me out of the dog cart and quietly led me into the Bistro named _'La tasse de thé Cracked'_ (in English this means 'The Cracked Tea Cup'), the dog cart that had been following ours stopped a few stores away and watched the crowded Bistro. As we entered we were greeted by a short man at a podium "I've made a reservation, the name is under Benjamin" The Vicomte said to the man, he was as I said before, short, with smoothed back blonde hair, green eyes, and a blonde, curly, mustache.

"Ah, Monsieur Vicomte Benjamin...and his lady friend" said the short man, bowing and kissing the top of my hand, I smiled and greeted the short man very politely. "Right this way Monsieur and Mademoiselle" said the short man, leading Aaron and I to a quieter part of the Bistro; this part of the restaurant was much more posh. White table cloths, silver cups and utensils, and a small chandelier for each table whilst there was a large chandelier for the entire room, my mind instantly went back to The Opera Ghost's note_ 'whilst she sings to bring down the chandelier...'_ candle light gave the room a warm glow along with a fireplace in the far corner, crackling and popping happily. The short man gave us a table in the middle of the room, he then placed a bottle of _' A. de Fussigny'_ cognac in the middle of the Vicomte and I, along with two glasses; he quickly poured our drinks, bowed, and left us for a while. Right beyond the Vicomte and out of the window was the dog cart that followed us, my eyes were glued onto this dog cart, the Vicomte saw this and turned to me.

"Who do you think it is, in the dog cart?" Asked he, sipping on the cognac "I, for one, think it is Mrs. Giry" continued he, I glanced over to him and shook my head.

"No, Mamma would've done something by now to show us that it was she...she wouldn't of waited out in the cold of Paris in a dog cart" said I with a giggle. The Vicomte smiled and placed his cognac down again, my left hand was upon the table and I was playing with the ring the Opera Ghost had given me (I also wore some of the jewelry he had recently gifted to me).

"Who is this man who gave you that ring?" Asked the Vicomte suspiciously, I smiled and looked down at it.

"A wonderful man" Said I, the Vicomte had taken up his glass again and nearly spit out the drink at hearing my words, he swallowed and coughed.

"Forgive me, your words caught me off guard" said he, coughing once more. "Who is this _'wonderful man'_?" Asked he, his brows furrowing; he crossed his arms and acted more masculine than he was.

"I don't...I don't exactly know his _real_ name, but everyone calls him the Opera Ghost." Said I with a smile upon my face, the Vicomte's eyes darkened and a worried look spread across his face. "What?" I asked as he shook his head slowly.

"Ever since our last meeting when you mentioned an Opera Ghost, I have been attempting to do some research on this man. Elizabeth, that man is evil, you must sever all connections with him; he is nothing but trouble and death. He's the one who killed Josh, and he's the one who slashed all of the scenes for _Faust._ He was the one to bring the chandelier down all those years ago! You must stay away from him" The Vicomte growled, I became angry and insulted.

"How do you know these things to be true?" I hissed, it came out a bit more harsh than it was supposed to be, Aaron was surprised at my tone, but answered in a whisper.

"I have gone to the library, I have interviewed people and gotten eyewitness accounts...Mrs. Giry for one! Elizabeth, he is bad" The Vicomte said leaning closer to me. I suddenly had a burst of anger bubble up inside me, how dare he say these things about a man...the only man...who has made me smile! How dare he say those horrid things about a man who makes me happy...and who I love? My anger rose to a terrible point and I began to burst at the seams.

"No disrespect..._sir" _I hissed 'sir' just as I had that day at the apothecary, the Vicomte sat back in astonishment "but I may associate myself with whomever I choose, be it criminals or ghosts I will do as I please. Who are you to tell me who I may see and whom I may not? I am a grown woman, not a child, _Aaron_, besides, the Opera Ghost makes me happy...very happy." I stood and pushed in my seat, and just as I was about to leave I came up with one last horrid thing to say, I turned back to the Vicomte and shook my head "this ring" I said in a lower, calmer tone "not only sits on my marriage finger just because it fits..." I hissed. "Good night, Vicomte" I growled; Aaron stood and ran after me, attempting to reason with me, saying how sorry he was.

"Elizabeth, at the very least, ride back to the Opera House in my dog cart; there are so many unsavory people out at this hour and I do not want you hurt, Elizabeth!" He cried, standing before his dog cart as I stamped away. I turned toward him, fire in my eyes.

"Maybe, Vicomte, I _want_ to walk back to the Opera House! I would rather be abducted than get back into a dog cart with you!" I yelled, my country accent presenting itself in my anger; I then heard the Vicomte order his driver to follow me. I clenched my fists and walked down an alleyway, hiding behind a building; I heard the driver order his horses forwards, I peeked around the building and saw the Vicomte's personal dog cart vanish into the foggy night of Paris. I sighed and slowly came out of the alleyway, I felt worn, I had never been _that_ angry at someone before!

Not even when my parents died! I breathed and smoke came out of my mouth, I smiled and thought of when Victoria and I would do that as children, pretending we were dragons. I sighed and started to walk down the cobblestone street, rubbing my arms in an attempt to keep warm; all was quiet on this street in Paris, save the noise of my shoes upon the ground. Now, I heard the faint noise of hooves upon cobblestone in the opposite direction that the Vicomte disappeared in; I then remembered the dog cart that followed us to the bistro from the Opera Populaire! The hooves came closer...and closer...and closer until the dog cart drove a few paces away from me and stopped.

The emblem of the Opera Populaire was on the back of the dog cart, all of a sudden the door opened and out of the dog cart peeked a black, wide brimmed hat; then out came the entire man. The Opera Ghost stood before me in the very same apparel as before; he looked to me with the same mysterious gaze and those terrible thoughts came back to me. Is he angry? Does he know that this was Mamma's fault? Does he think that I have feelings for the Vicomte?

The Opera Ghost sighed, which froze my heart; I felt that he was mad at me. His left hand came out of his cloak and his pointer finger motioned for me to come to him; this I did and then the Opera Ghost opened his arms, revealing a black tuxedo. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head into his chest, whispering an explanation. The Opera Ghost chuckled and pushed my chin up, quite close to his face, he smiled which was illuminated by the gas lamps "I know, Eliza, Timothy explained it all to me; Timothy was sitting next to Victoria when all of that ensued. Especially" the Opera Ghost paused and made a ripping motion "the ripping of the note" he whispered, his voice was so heavenly!

So wonderful! It was music to my ears! I never wanted him to stop talking, never! His voice was so smooth, like warm butter, yet, there was an edginess to it; a playful, dangerous edge, I could now say that I was _éperdument amoureux de qn_ (English translation: madly in love). A cold wind blew and the Opera Ghost's cloak was wrapped around me; all of a sudden I was lifted off of the cobblestone ground and into the Ghost's arms.

From there he placed me inside the dog cart and jumped inside himself, three times he tapped on the roof of the dog cart and away we went; as we were traveling back to the Opera Populaire my stomach made an unearthly noise and the Opera Ghost smiled. "I forgot that you have not eaten; well, dinner is waiting for us in my box." said he, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him, I rested my head upon his shoulder and smelled the perfume of mints and ginger; I smiled at the heavenly scent and looked down to my ring, my wonderful ring, watching his reflection in the large diamonds.

_**Chapter Thirteen: Dinner With A Ghost**_

November 1st, 1910, 9:30pm

The Opera Ghost and I walked arm-in-arm across the darkened stage, I couldn't see three feet in front of me, but the Opera Ghost could see perfectly fine. "Watch that, gas light" said he, quickly, as he pulled me away; several times more this happened so he smiled to me and lifted me off of the stage. Holding me bridal style he walked me off of the stage, up red, carpet stairs and to a door labeled 'Box Five'; he placed me upon the ground and with the flick of his wrist, the door opened. He took up my arm again and led me inside where I was stunned even more then than I was at the Bistro! All of the seats had been removed (save a little, wooden chair in the corner), the curtains were closed, and in the middle of the box (where the seats were supposed to be) there was a little table covered in white table cloth.

At the small table where two, red, velvet chairs; in front of these chairs (on the table) was a golden plate, a tea cup filled with hot tea, silver utensils, a champagne glass, and a napkin folded to look like a swan. In the middle of the table there was a candelabra with several, lit candles inside; this was all it took to illuminate the box. The Opera Ghost closed the door after us, helped me into my chair and disappeared behind curtains that hid the walls of the opera box; all of a sudden the music of a violin floated through the air and the Opera Ghost returned, holding a bottle of wine and a red rose with black lace tied around the stem. This he placed in my hair and set the wine on the table, now he disappeared once more, only to return bearing food. The food was a foreign dish named _lasagna_, it's layers of flat noodles and ricotta cheese, then it is smeared in marinara sauce and baked to perfection.

"So, when did Timothy tell you?" I asked "about what Mamma did" I clarified, sipping on the wine the Opera Ghost poured for me; there was something different about this wine, it was sweet and didn't have a bitter aftertaste, needless to say, I liked it.

"He said two moments after it happened, I ran to my opera box and caught you and he walking; I saw you look up to my box, there was a grave look upon your face...and I couldn't discern if you saw me or not." Said he eating a forkful of lasagna. I smiled.

"No, I didn't see you...that's why I looked so grave." Said I, glancing up from my dinner and smiling to the handsome man. The Opera Ghost now sat back in his chair and crossed his arms which seemed to double in muscularity since last I saw him; he smiled at me and poured a bit more wine in my glass, I thanked him and he nodded.

"What...oh, what did that man say to make you to yell in the streets of Paris, at night?" Asked he, leaning forwards and drinking from his glass; I smiled again and sighed.

"He was attempting to tell me who I could and could not see" I answered, the Opera Ghost nodded, something shined in the candlelight and we both looked down to see that I was involuntarily fiddling with the ring he had given me, the Opera Ghost put down his cup and smiled; pouring both he and I more wine. "So" I whispered, feeling a bit lightheaded, I had almost finished my lasagna and I started to become very giggly "what do you do all day?" I asked, putting my head in my hands and leaning on the table; looking at the Opera Ghost dreamily.

"I watch and listen to you" said he, he was perfectly sober. My cheeks turned a red color and I started to giggle, then I assumed the head-in-arms position again; I started making little circles on the table cloth and I looked up to the Opera Ghost, who was watching my every move. "Tell me about yourself, Elizabeth" said he "you're obviously, playful for, I watched you and your sister make faces in your mirror" I smiled and blushed again _'he saw that?...oh, now I feel the fool'_ I thought.

"Well" I whispered, staring into his eyes, the candlelight gleamed and glimmered against them; mesmerizing me and making me trail off. "Your eyes are amazing" said I, he smiled and I took a few more gulps from my glass; "my life wasn't happy, exactly" said I, reading to take the plunge into all those horrid emotions again. My hand was upon the table and he moved his hand over it; I lifted up my fingers and interlocked them with his. "Christine was the best mother she could have been...she tried to keep Victoria and I as down-to-earth as possible; she gave me singing lessons and taught me to play the piano. She taught Victoria to dance" I paused and chuckled "I never learnt how.

Christine was always there when we needed her..." I whispered, never breaking eye contact with the Opera Ghost. "Raoul...he was always working, he took to tobacco smoking" I shook my head "he had a terrible cough...and then, some nights, he would just stop" I finished, sipping on the wine.

"Stop coughing or smoking?" Asked the Opera Ghost, putting the cork back in the bottle and placing it on the floor; he saw that I was becoming inebriated. I smiled and put down my glass.

"Coughing" I answered, I paused "and everything else would stop as well. You would be surprised how many times I called the doctor to revive him in the wee hours of the morning; thankfully, Victoria was too young to understand." There was a short pause and I began again "So, that's my childhood, what's your story?" I asked, holding his hand tighter. The Opera Ghost became very, very quiet and he wouldn't meet my gaze; he would look away or down, but never to me.

I sighed and stood; his eyes instantly shot up to me, I smiled to him, and walked over to him, never breaking our hands. "This was the_ most_ delightful dinner I've had...thank you" said I, leaning down and kissing his half-mask's cheek. The Opera Ghost stood, and as he stood we heard quick footsteps; running away from the opera box, I instantly looked to him. He ran to the door and threw it open, he peered down the hallway and turned back to me.

"There is no harm here, Elizabeth, _I_ am the most harmful thing in thisOpera House" Said he, taking up my arm; I attempted to protest (that he was the most harmful thing here) but he placed his index finger to my lips. "You will only waste your breath...and that is something I would like you to keep" he added, I felt as if I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor as he walked me back to my room; I unlocked my dressing room's door and as I turned to tell him goodnight, I found that he had vanished. I smiled.

"Goodnight, Opera Ghost...sweetest dreams to you" I whispered walking into my dressing room and falling upon my bed; drifting off into a deep sleep.


	9. Chapters Fourteen & Fifteen

_**Chapter Fourteen: Faust!**_

November 2nd, 1910

I woke with a terrible pain in my back and Victoria standing over me "get up, sissy! They fixed all the scenes in _Faust_ and there's only a few more hours until the opera begins!" She cried, I sat up to find that I was on the floorboards, I rubbed my head and my brows furrowed "you wouldn't wake up so I pushed you" Victoria said with a giggle, I rolled my eyes and sighed. That's when a shockwave was sent through me.

"Wait, there's only a few more hours until the opera begins?" I cried, Victoria nodded and said that it was five o'clock in the afternoon; the opera began at seven. I jumped up and ran into the outer most room to find Megan sitting on my couch with my costume in hand; I took it from her and ran my fastest to my dressing screen, changing as quickly as I could.

_**One and a half hour's later...**_

I stood, bewildered, backstage as I watched both performers and staff run about like chickens with their head's cut off! Megan was speaking with the prop manager, Horace, about the small box that held the fantastic jewelry in Act III; I turned my head to see the managers walking in with the Vicomte. A shockwave of fear was sent up my spine and came out through my cold fingers and frozen toes; I quickly turned away just as the Vicomte glanced upwards...in my direction. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I stood beside Megan; she sensed my discomfort and attempted to pull me away, but a shout from the managers took us back. "Ah, Margarita! We are all so excited about your performance to-night! There is no doubt in the world that you will dazzle the audience" M. Richard said with a friendly smile.

"You are too kind, Monsieur, I am overjoyed that the scenes we're mended! In such a short span of time too" said I with an amiable smile. The Vicomte stood beside M. Richard, I would not look to him; but the Vicomte stared at me, causing my cheeks to heat up and pinken.

"Ah, yes, they wouldn't have if it wasn't for the Vicomte, his painters worked with astonishing speed!" M. Richard said with a larger smile, I looked up to the clock in the corner of the room which read six fifty; the managers walked away, but the Vicomte remained before me. His eyes were fixated upon my face.

"Is there anything I may help you with, monsieur?" Asked I, looking up to him and staring into his eyes; they seemed to soften and look pleading.

"Elizabeth...I...I was a fool to demand you...I was a fool; I did it out of love...a love for you...an undying love!" The Vicomte kneeled down on one knee and held my hands in his "Elizabeth...I love you! I will scream it to the heavens above! Elizabeth, please, you must forgive me...I don't want you hurt is all. I don't want anyone to hurt you...let alone lay a finger upon you...I'm only trying to show my care for you!"

The Vicomte now feverishly kissed my hands "...I need you, Elizabeth, my heart cannot stand being alone much longer...my heart cannot stand being without you, Elizabeth, please, give me something...anything that tells me what you feel! Anything that helps me understand! Anything that brings me closer to you..." said he, very loudly, now the performers and staff stopped and stared at the once respectable Vicomte now kneeling before me; they were all awaiting my response. My mouth opened to respond, but it slowly closed as my eyes scanned the pitiful man; the Vicomte sighed. "Elizabeth, give me hope; give me hope of a future with you!

Tell me that you will stay with me...tell me you will be mine. Elizabeth, plea-" the Vicomte was cut off by the sound of the clock striking seven; the opera had begun. The managers reappeared and ordered everyone to their respective places, the Vicomte stood and kissed my cheek; walking away with his shoulders slumped and his head upon his breast.

"What do you feel for him?" Megan asked quietly, checking my appearance, I sighed.

"Pity" I whispered.

_**Act III...**_

There was an intermission between Act II and Act III where I had time to rest, this intermission was coming to an end and I was placed inside the small, prop cottage awaiting the rise of the large, red curtains. The curtains rose and I began to sing, then, someone (the actor who played _Faust_, which was a man named Jasper) knocked upon the cardboard door; leaving the small box filled with wonderful, fake, jewelry.

_But, what is this?_

_From who did this splendid casket come?_

_I dare not touch it- Yet see, here is the key!- I'll take one look, how I tremble-yet why?- can it be much harm just to look in a casket?_

Sang I, in this moment a manly voice erupted from what seemed where the walls "Did I_ not_ instruct that box five was to be kept empty?" the manly, familiar voice growled; it was the Opera Ghost. His voice seemed to come from all around; I glanced up to box five to find the Duke and Duchess of Wales seated in opera box five.

"It's him.." said I, breathlessly, looking about the room; hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. My gaze wandered to the managers who were now motioning for me to continue my song.

_ Oh, heaven, what jewels! Can I be dreaming? Or am I really awake? Never have I seen such costly things before!_

As I sat down before the mirror to place the prop jewels on me, the entire Opera House began to shake; the chandelier jingled whilst dust and _debris_ fell from it and the ceiling. "Please...Opera Ghost...please...now is not the time.." I whispered as the Opera Populaire stopped shaking, the managers again motioned for me to continue.

_I should just like to see how they'd look upon me! Those brightly sparkling ear-drops Ah at the bottom of the casket is a glass;_ _ there I can see myself — But am I not becoming vain? _

At this moment there was again a knock on the cardboard door, which was not supposed to happen until Act III Scene IV, it was only Scene I. All of a sudden the door was flung open and in strolled Jasper in the _Faust_ costume, save, it wasn't Jasper; this man was a brunette whilst Jasper had black hair and green eyes, this man had sparkling blue eyes. This man was a bit taller than Jasper (by an inch or so) and was acting completely out-of-line. "Vain you are not, Marguerite! Vain you will never be!"

This man sang, grasping my hands and swinging me onto the green, prop couch; his knee was beside me and he leaned over me, his right hand held my cheek. "My beautiful Marguerite, those jewels make you even more royal than before! Your beauty is unrivaled and your song, unparalleled! I love you, Marguerite, I am the fair youth you met at the party! I am the youth who asked your hand, the polite and gentle youth who loves you so."

The man leaned closer to me as he sang, I knew that the man wasn't the Opera Ghost, but, who was he then? "I am the one who cares for you so.." He whispered, and almost instantly I knew who the man was. All of a sudden, the man pressed my back harder against the couch and smashed our lips together; my eyes enlarged and the crowd cheered, Megan and Victoria panicked, and the lights began to flicker. I placed my hand on the man's chest and started to push him away, soon Megan noticed my struggle; the man didn't let go of me so I began hitting his chest with my fists. Now there was a spark and all of the lights went out; that's when I heard the man above me give a grunt and fall to the ground.

But, this grunt wasn't heard by anyone else, for, women began to scream and cry out in their panic; I became afraid and relieved at the same time, then I felt a finger touch my lips. I looked to the finger to see that it was enclosed in a black glove; I followed the glove up to a black, tuxedo coat and up that to a cloak...up that to a white, half-mask. I sighed and embraced him in one of the happiest hugs I had ever given; I kissed his ear and whispered my thanks, I felt him smile. The Opera Ghost quickly kissed my cheek and vanished from my arms; only moments afterwards the lights turned on again, I knelt down to the man who was an imposter to Jasper and wiped the make-up free from his face. As I did, I smiled, for my theory had been proven correct, the man who ruined the opera...was the Vicomte, Aaron Benjamin.

_**Chapter Fifteen: The Persian**_

November 2nd, 1910, 9:30pm

_Faust_ finished without further hindrance from the Vicomte, or anyone else. As I walked backstage, to go to my room, I received stares and glares from the performers; mostly the chorus girls who spoke of the Vicomte's handsomeness. I hurried away from these girls and found myself in the dimly lit hallway which led to my dressing room; I sighed but as I turned to my dressing room I saw a shape sitting beside my door. The shape's legs were pulled to its chest but it's head sat at attention, following my every move; I stopped and watched as the shape stood and stepped forwards, towards me. I took a shaking step backwards and the shape reached out its arms for me; this caused me to run away from the shape.

I turned my head to see behind me, only to discover the dark shape running after me; I rounded a corner and saw a set of stairs leading downwards, to the cellars of the Opera Populaire. The Opera Populaire had five cellars in number, each darker and more frightening than the last; I had only ventured to cellar number two, where I saw fire spewing from what looked like a head. I fainted and a fireman (who goes round the building, checking for fires) retrieved me, bringing me to Mamma Giry; I heard the footfall of the shape grow closer and fearing lest something bad would happen to me, I hurried down the stairs to cellar number one. The shape gained upon me, I felt its fingers graze my shoulder, this alarmed me; then, I considered something I hadn't in my panic. _'What if that's the Opera Ghost?'_

I turned my head and looked for the Opera Ghost's wide brimmed, black hat or his cloak; neither I saw. This shape was wearing what looked like a tuxedo and a hat sat upon it's head; I accidently slowed in order to observe the shape and whilst I did the shape grasped my shoulder and pulled me to it. The shape lifted its left hand (for, it held me with it's right) and unveiled a lamp with a narrow beam; the shape turned out to be a man, and a man I had never known. This man was tall (around the Opera Ghost's height), with eyes of jade, a black mustache, black hair, and upon his head he wore a black astrakhan hat; the man smiled and bowed his head. "W-who are you?"

I asked the man in a whisper, the man let go of my shoulder and grasped my wrist instead. "You may call me the Persian, like most do, Elizabeth" the Persian said, Mamma Giry had said something to me once of a man that wanders backstage in an astrakhan hat; no one knew his real name, so everyone just called him 'The Persian'. Few have actually spoken with this man, for, he keeps to himself; The Persian offered his arm to me, which I took, and we walked silently back to my dressing room. The Persian sat down in the golden fabric chair whilst I began to make tea; I sat down in a small, wooden chair across from the Persian. "Why did you run from me, Elizabeth?

I know the circumstances were unsolid, but, why would you run into the cellars instead of to your caretaker or to your friend, Megan?" Asked the Persian, sitting up in the chair; I shook my head and shrugged.

"Why were you sitting beside my door, uh, Monsieur Persian?" Asked I, standing again to check on the tea; the Persian chuckled.

"To make for certain that you were fine; I saw your struggle with the Vicomte on stage and the thought of him overpowering you backstage plagued my mind." The Persian paused and sighed "Elizabeth, do not go into the cellars alone; there are terrible things down there...things which should never see the light of day. You would certainly be killed, for, I almost was when I ventured down there all by my lonesome; and you are certainly the best Margarita this Opera has ever had...they would not like to lose you!" Said the Persian, taking a tea cup from me and stirring in two cubes of sugar.

"How did you escape? You said you ventured down, into the cellars, and your life was almost taken from you...how did you come away unscathed?" Asked I, sipping on the tea, the Persian smiled and sighed.

"Yes, Madam, I did escape; but I was by no means '_unscathed'_. Down in the cellars...it is _his_ world..._his_ home...it is all _his_; I watched him, many times a day, and once I mirrored his movements. Gaining entry into _his_ realm" The Persian paused again to sip his tea; I dare not interrupt the Persian to ask who 'he' was, I figured he would soon come to that. "In the cellars there is a house upon a lake, _his_ house, I settled into his _gondola, _which is a very narrow, small boat; and I rowed until I sat in the middle of the large lake." The Persian set down his tea cup, leaned back, and joined his hands together "There was beautiful singing, a wonderful voice that I figured was not of this earth!

Being where I am from, and superstitious, I knew that it was a siren. I shook my head in an effort to escape that breath-taking voice...but in vain; the voice seemed to come from the water so I leaned over...over...and over until I almost tipped the_ gondola_!" The Persian chuckled and I smiled, I placed my tea cup upon a small table and sat at the edge of my seat, fully interested in the story of 'him'. "I peeked down into the dark water, but I saw nothing, the signing continued...until two arms wrapped round my neck and dragged me into the water! I yelled a name that _he_ knew me by; and instead of killing me, he swam with me to shore.

Where he chastised me for ever following him. The Persian grew very quiet and after a long pause, the Persian continued "as you may tell it was not a siren at all, but him, it was he who was singing in the lake; by a method of reeds he saw pirates execute. This reed enabled him to breathe, sing, and talk from underwater! I was so amazed, and he loved it; after he astonishes someone he loves to show them how that certain contraption works, which shows how cunningly ingenuitive he is." The Persian laughed "sometimes, just sometimes, I think him a child; a child who begs for praise and approval.

For, isn't that what children do?" The Persian asked and I nodded, I knew this from experience; having a sister seven years my junior. The Persian sighed and stood "I am sorry this interview couldn't last longer, Elizabeth, you really are a joy to speak with; but now, I must go, _Adieu" _Said he, walking towards my door; I called for the Persian and he slowly turned round to me.

"Who is the man you call _'he'_?" Asked I, "and by what name does this 'he' know you by?" The Persian gave a weak smile.

"_'He'_ is the Trap Door Lover...and I am 'Daroga' to him; I remain to you, 'The Persian'" The Persian bowed, taking off his astrakhan hat and turning away from me; he silently opened the door and with one last bow to me, he disappeared into the dimly lit hallway in which this misadventure began.


	10. Chapters Sixteen & Seventeen

**_Chapter Sixteen: The Cellars_**

November 4th, 1910, 5:30pm.

It was two days since I saw the Persian, two days since I saw the Opera Ghost, and two days since I saw the Vicomte. I mostly spent my time wandering around the upper floors of the Opera Populaire; above ground, the Opera House had a total of twelve floors, making it seventeen floors in total. I would often sit upon the highest catwalk and look out of the great skylights which overlooked the bustling city of Paris. But, this evening, the Persian's words reverberated in my head_ 'do not go to the cellars alone...there are terrible things down there...'_ what terrible things is he speaking of? What monster could be lurking beneath an Opera House?

These thoughts sparked my curiosity, all day the thought of the cellars plagued my mind; but, there also was the memory of the flaming head. So, that evening I let my more adventurous and curious side take over and I wandered over to the first set of stairs that led downwards; to cellar number one. With a lantern in hand and my other hand running over the stone wall I began the trek towards the mystery of what lurks below the Opera House; the first cellar was used for storage of scenes from different opera's and props, so it wasn't that frightening. It wasn't frightening, until I reached the Jacob's ladder and the unused scene from _Faust_ where Josh was found hanging from his neck; chills went up my spine as I stared at a blood pool that stained the hardwood floor where Josh must have landed. I sighed and continued towards the stairs that led to terrible, cellar number two.

Cellar number two was less welcoming than the former; the air became a bit heavier and the lights were dimmer. Now I saw old posters from past opera's, one of them was for _Don Giovanni;_ but there was something odd about it. The word 'Giovanni' was painted over in red paint, and the word 'Juan' and 'Triumphant' replaced it; my brows furrowed_ 'I've never heard of anything called__** Don Juan Triumphant**__'___thought I. I pulled the old poster free of the wall, rolled it up, and placed it inside my purple cloak; that day I wore a perfect white dress (not the best to go gallivanting into a cellar in) along with the cloak, my hair lay on my bosom. I dimmed my lantern and cautiously walked to the stairs, not wanting another encounter with the flaming head; slowly, silently down to the third cellar I went.

Into the third cellar people rarely came; but they came all the same. I shielded my lantern's light as people called 'door shutters' walked past me (I was hiding behind a prop tombstone); 'door shutters' as people call them are just old men (or women...mostly men) who walk about the Opera House shutting doors, for, drafts are a large problem. As soon as they passed me, I went back to my course, as I walked, alone, down a hallway I heard a sound equivalent to Christy scratching her long, manicured nails on a black board! I hid, dropped the lantern, and covered my ears; hoping to save them from the horrid screeching! In this moment, the end of the hallway lit and I glanced up to see a head...at a man's height, but no body; and the head was flaming!

My breath was caught in my throat as the flaming head came closer to where I was sitting; I knew the head saw me...but what would it do? The screeching became louder and louder as the head approached me, I then started to feel little nicks and bumps from what seemed like teeth; now the flaming head was only a few feet from me...and it spoke. "Do not follow me! I am the Rat Catcher...do not follow me!" He yelled, my mouth gaped as I watched him walk down the darkened hallway and disappear around a corner.

I slowly stood a few moments after the Rat Catcher disappeared and shook off the 'icky' feeling I gained only moments before. I began walking again, but this time I did not pay much attention to where I was walking; in that moment my left foot did not feel ground and I panicked, I fell forwards with a cry and landed on the stairs, on my side. I stood and slowly rubbed my side whispering words of pain as I did so; then I looked down the stairs and I could not see a thing. All I saw was blackness, dark, heavy, blackness; a weak, scrawny, little girl such as I does not belong in such a place filled with fear and uncertainty. But, again, my curiosity prevailed and involuntarily, my legs began to walk down the stone stairs; taking the rest of me with them.

In this moment I heard quick footfall from behind me, I turned and someone placed their hand over my mouth, yanking me back up the stairs as they did so; I quickly lifted the lantern to find that it was the Persian who stopped me! "I told you never to go down alone! There are things down there which are greater than you or I and that are not to be meddled with, unless, they meddle with you! Come, let us return to the surface, it is much safer there" said the Persian, dragging me behind him, I sighed and yanked my arm away from him; he quickly turned and I shook my head.

"Unless you tell me what is down there I am going to see for myself" I said stubbornly, the Persian sighed and rubbed his face in agitation. "Besides, how did you know I was down here?"

"_He_ told me, Elizabeth, the Trap Door Lover told me; he told me to stop you. That is what I intend to do" the Persian said, gently grasping my hand and pulling me back towards the stairs to the second cellar; again, I freed my arm.

"Lately, I've been thinking" said I, quickly "Do you know the Opera Ghost?" I asked, the Persian nodded; I smiled. "Are he and the Trap Door Lover friends?" Asked I, holding the lantern by my side; the Persian chuckled.

"You are a very intelligent girl, but no, they are not; for, they are...well... _Un dans le meme" _The Persian gave a small smile as I stood, gobsmacked, before him; I became excited for some reason and out of my cloak I tore the poster of _'Don Juan Triumphant'._

"Do you know what this is? Is it connected to him?" Asked I, quickly; the Persian smiled and nodded.

"This is his life-long work...it is still not finished" said the Persian "come now, let us return to the surface" said he as I returned the poster into my cloak; but I stood, motionless, the Persian smiled and chuckled. But before the Persian could speak a 'door shutter' jumped out of nowhere and yelled at us; I gasped and dropped the lantern, immersing us in total darkness. I stumbled backwards and found myself hopelessly falling...down...down until my head and body met the hard, stone staircase. My head smacked against the staircase as my body was thrown against it, I then bumped and rolled down the stairs with my arms outstretched; groping for anything to stop me. This I did in vain, I bumped and rolled and banged against the staircase until I fell upon the hard, stone floor of the fourth cellar.

I whimpered and groaned in pain as I lay on my stomach, my head swam and my body felt heavy; my face burned of hotness. My hand reached behind my head and softly touched it, feeling something wet I pulled my hand back to my face where I saw nothing! The darkness of the fourth cellar was so dark that I couldn't see my hand that was only inches in front of my nose! My fingers touched my palm and some of the wetness came off of my hand and touched the stone floor; I sighed and with a groan I pushed myself up, onto all fours. Dizziness overcame me which forced me to stay in that position for a while; after my dizziness left I outstretched my right hand, rising it to the level of my eyes.

I crawled upon the floor like this for a while, until I felt a cold, stone wall which I followed until it started to plunge downwards; _'this must be the stairs to the fifth cellar!'_ I thought. So, sitting on my backside, and putting my legs before me and with my arms at my sides; I lifted myself down to each step I did this for the first step...the second step...the third step...all the way until I hit the last step and my feet touched sand. I now noticed that I was not consumed by darkness any longer, candles were all around, illuminating the fifth cellar; I looked up to find a narrow boat which the Persian called a gondola bobbing about on the darkened lake. I sighed in relief, I made it, I made it to the Opera Ghost's home!

I then turned my attention back to my now-throbbing head; I lifted up my right hand and glanced at the palm, which was covered in dried blood. I looked down at my once white dress, now it was soiled in grime and dirt (along with _a lot_ of blood), oh, what I monster I probably looked like! I sighed and stumbled to my feet, staggering and falling over several times before reaching the gondola; I slowly sat down inside the small boat and gripped the paddle, gently pushing the gondola across the water. Around one-third of the way across I heard mournful music that resonated from a piano...the music turned angry and I heard a man's yell "damned piano!" and then I heard a sound equivalent to someone running their fingers over all of the keys of a piano; the voice was of the Opera Ghost.

I then heard a long and frustrated sigh...and then saddened music resonated once more from the same piano; I paddled ever quieter, until the piano music stopped and a wonderful voice filled the air around me..

_**Chapter Seventeen: House on the Lake**_

November 4th, 1910

I was entranced as a sweet, sweet voice met my ears and softly kissed them. Then, I remembered the Persian telling me that the 'siren' was actually the Opera Ghost beneath the surface of the lake; singing through a hollowed reed. I smiled and thought up a plan; I would sing to the Opera Ghost. I stood in the narrow boat and readied my voice as the 'siren' continued singing; I placed the paddle down beside me.

_In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came...that voice which calls to me and speaks my name._

_And do I dream again? For now I find-the Phantom of the Opera is there-inside my mind! _

At this point the 'siren' stopped singing, I smiled, and sang again.

_Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear-I am the mask you wear-my spirit and my voice in one combined! The Phantom of the Opera is there-inside my mind! He's there...the Phantom of the Opera! _

I then knelt down, stretched my arms to the ceiling of the cellar and poured my body, mind, and soul into a solo melody; afterwards I was overcome with dizziness and fell backwards, thankfully, landing in the boat. I was utterly, fantastically, exhausted; I closed my eyes until I felt the gondola moving again, my eyes opened to find, standing before me, the Opera Ghost with a paddle in hand. The Opera Ghost was dripping wet and his hat was sopping; his wet cloak was still pulled around him, though. I smiled, finally, finally I could have relief! My eyes closed again and I felt the boat hit the shore; next thing I knew I was in the Opera Ghost's arms, he was carrying me out of the gondola.

_**Sometime later...**_

Without realizing it, I had fallen asleep! More importantly, I had fallen asleep in the Opera Ghost's arms! I felt something soft and warm underneath me and what felt like blankets on top of me; I opened my eyes to see that, indeed, there were blankets covering me, for, I was in a bed! A bed with red sheets and that was shaped like a swan; all around the bed was a black, lace canopy. I sat up to find that I was in a sparsely decorated room, there was a brown wardrobe, the bed, two side tables, and the walls were covered by red curtains; I slowly slid out of the bed and walked to the curtains.

A golden tassel presented itself, I smiled and pulled it; the curtains moved and revealed a picture of me that ran the length of the wall! I remembered posing for this picture, not a day ago! The painter was elderly (but did an astonishing job) and painted two of these pictures, one for me, and apparently, one for the Opera Ghost! This picture of me was in a golden frame which embellished the picture itself; I smiled and heard a jovial melody from the instrument of a piano dance into the room. Instead of doors curtains separated the rooms in the Opera Ghost's house, and this bedroom was no exception; I quietly pushed the curtain and walked through the threshold to find a humble kitchen.

The wall color was a light brown whilst the cabinets were black and the countertop color was also black; in the middle of the kitchen sat a small island and along with the cabinets there was a black, gas stove. I turned to find a small sink in which were placed two, white plates; I looked down to find hardwood floors and a red, silken carpet running over these floors in a small hallway. This hallway I followed, getting closer and closer to the happy melody; at the end of the hallway I came to three thresholds, one on the right, one on the left and one in the middle. The one in the middle was were the piano music was originating, with a smile I pushed the curtain back a tad to see a piano against the back wall of the room and the Opera Ghost sitting at it; playing the amiable song. This room was also painted light brown and inside were all different types of instruments, ten violins, three harps, four pianos (ranging in size), three organs, two cellos, a tambourine, five drums (ranging in size) two guitars, and a few I had never seen before!

Little did I know, there were mirrors on the particular piano the Opera Ghost was playing at; so, he saw my every move. I smiled and stared at him dreamily, his cloak flowed over his body and laid limply on the piano seat; his wide, brimmed hat had dried but still flopped over his head, he popped his cloak's collar which surrounded his neck up to his ears. His fingers moved busily about the pearly white keys, tickling the ivory within and creating one of the most pleasurable sounds I had ever heard; I smiled and realized that, without thinking, I walked right into the room and stood with my back against the wall. The Opera Ghost then started to play a even happier tone that made my foot tap the floor; out of sheer happiness I started to dance about the room, twirling and twisting, jumping and bouncing, giggling and laughing. The Opera Ghost guided his song to an end and turned to me, I smiled and bowed; he bowed his head and scanned me, I was still in that stained, no-longer-white dress.

"You had quite the gash on your head, Margarita" said he, running his gloved, index finger over the wood of his piano. "You _really_ wanted to see this monster..._that_ bad?"

"You are no monster, Opera Ghost, no monster at all! But a genius, yes...that you are; you are a genius, a composer, and a magician...you are wonderful" I whispered "and your voice" I began again as I sat next to him "your voice puts the morning robin to shame, sweeter than sugar...smoother than butter...more wonderful than a fall afternoon...more vibrant than a rainbow...and warmer than a summer's night. Your voice is incredible...and I am not just speaking of your singing voice." Said I, looking into his mysterious eyes; he was quiet, but his eyes talked very loudly. "Why do you hide away from me?"

Asked I, turning towards him and placing my hand beside his; hoping,_ praying_ that he would take it. I inched closer to him and smelt his wonderful perfume of ginger and mints, it smelt so heavenly! His eyes locked onto mine and never strayed, whilst mine were nervous...and he could tell. I saw a small smile cross his face, he made his fingers do the 'walking man' (were your hand is supported by your index finger and middle finger..it looks like a human walking) over to mine; where his hand grasped my own and tenderly held it. My cheeks heated and turned pink, I laid my head down upon his shoulder whilst my heart sang and my mind was, for once, at peace; then, I smiled.

"Opera Ghost?" I asked, looking up at him from his shoulder, he looked down at me with attentive eyes. "Would you...would you like to...to...to accompany me to-" I was cut off by his index finger pressing against my lips, he had a smile on his face.

"I will accompany you anywhere, Elizabeth...just say the words" said he, my heart screamed a perfect note...a note of love.

"There's an ice rink in the general square...it's already frozen over, and there's plenty of restaurants nearby...if you want to go out one day.." I whispered, the Opera Ghost smiled and agreed.

"Why don't we schedule that day for to-morrow?" Suggested he, my heart did a backflip in my chest and I instantly agreed "good" said he, pulling me into a hug; I hugged him tightly and he chuckled, kissing the top of my head and laying his right cheek down upon where he kissed. I had never, ever been this happy all of my life! Wait until I tell Victoria and Megan about my exquisite date with the most perfect man!


	11. Chapter Eighteen

**_Chapter Eighteen: Terror at the Ice Rink_**

November 5th, 1910, 10:05am

Victoria's eyes enlarged to a point where I thought they were going to pop out of her small head and fall to the floor! Megan jumped up and threw her arms around me, tightly hugging me; I giggled and smiled as she squeezed the breath out of me. As the girls settled down, there came a knock on my door; thinking that the Opera Ghost was early (he would call for me at ten-twenty) I jumped out of my seat and hurried to the door. Smiling widely and swinging it open to find Gerard standing before me. My smile vanished at seeing the butler "oh" said I "Gerard, what a pleasant surprise, what is the matter?"

Asked I, but the butler, remained silent. My brows furrowed and we stood in silence for a few moments more, I looked into Gerard's eyes and saw sadness; along with...pity. Gerard gave a long and tiring sigh, then, he held out a small shot-glass with what looked like brandy inside it; I pushed it away and politely refused, but again, Gerard pushed it to my face. "Gerard, really, I'm not one to drink alcohol. Thank you, good day" said I, as I attempted to shut the door; but Gerard stopped it with his shoe, again came a long sigh.

"Mademoiselle" He whispered quickly, leaning into my room as I opened the door again "mademoiselle, my life depends on if you drink this...the Vicomte is going bloody mental and he said that if I returned and you hadn't drank this...he would have my head; now, I'm not supposed to speak a word to you. But, this is the only way you'll understand; also, I would like to live out my days with Mrs. Giry, if you don't mind, mademoiselle." Finished Gerard, quickly leaning back out and checking both directions of the dimly lit hallway; I pitied Gerard and I slowly took the glass from him.

"Gerard, what will this do to me? If he wants your head if you come back with it full it _must_ be more than just a simple shot of alcohol." Said I, smelling the liquid. Gerard gave a frustrated sigh and pushed me into my room; quickly shutting the door behind him. He pushed me into the inner room, along with Victoria and Megan, and made us sit on my bed whilst he whispered to us.

"I do not know, mademoiselle, but, the Vicomte did say _'she will be mine to-night, for, she will be out like a light!'_ then, he laughed. I suggest that you get that Opera Ghost man you were talking of to watch over you for a while; until the Vicomte regains his head." Gerard said in a hurried whisper, I sighed and watched the man; he looked haggard, and thin, and he looked frightened, deathly frightened.

"Gerard, I want you to leave the Opera Populaire...leave to-night! I certainly am anxious about this..." I said, setting the shot-glass down on a side table. Gerard sighed and sat down upon the floor and groaned.

"If only it were that easy" said he, rubbing his face in frustration. "Someone must look after the Vicomte, and those managers would just enable him; _I_ am the only line of defense against his ill wishes. Besides, Mrs. Giry does not want to leave the Opera just yet, she wants to know that you are settled and happy before she makes her flight." I slid off of the bed and knelt down to Gerard, patting his trembling hands and assuring him that everything would turn out fine; all of a sudden I heard Victoria gasp.

"Sissy! Someone's in your mirror!" She screamed, pushing backwards; Gerard and I quickly stood to find that inside my mirror was a tall man with a black cloak wrapped around him (the collar popped up) and a black, wide-brimmed hat upon his head; the man wore a white, half mask and a black tuxedo. Underneath his hat his mysterious eyes shinned and I found myself, once again, entranced; I found myself closer to the Opera Ghost and then discovered that I had, involuntarily, walked around my bed and straight to my mirror! Now, the Opera Ghost stepped out of my mirror and onto the floor, one of his gloved hands outstretched whilst the other held the edge of the mirror; his outstretched hand cupped my cheek and both of my hands touched his, bringing it to my mouth so I could kiss it.

This I did, and his hand returned to my cheek; now, his entire body was out of my mirror. It was witchcraft! Sorcery! Magic! My mind would've been buzzing with this sheer impossibility, but, before me was the man who meant everything to me.

Now both of his hands loosely held my cheeks and he kissed my forehead "are you ready, Elizabeth?" Asked he with his heavenly voice; I quickly nodded and he offered his arm to me. I took it up and he interlocked our fingers, much like at dinner a few nights before; we turned to leave and we faced three bewildered, befuddled, gobsmacked people. I giggled and introduced him, and he bowed; Megan wore a sly smile on her face and Victoria stared in wonder at finally seeing someone that her friends talked so much about. Gerard was more worried about his circumstances to be too surprised; the Opera Ghost walked me over to the side table, took up the shot-glass, and threw it against the wall.

There was a loud _'thump!'_ on the other side of the wall and what sounded like quick footfall; the Opera Ghost spoke "the Vicomte was eavesdropping on your entire conversation; Gerard, do not go back to him, stay put. Ladies, go to Mamma Giry and stay with her, he won't try anything around her" the Opera Ghost paused and turned to me "as for you.." he kissed my cheek "you are staying with me" he finished, turning with me and walking out of my bedroom; I yelled my goodbye's to my friends.

_**Ten minutes later...**_

The ice sparkled as the Opera Ghost tied up my ice skates; he tapped my foot and finished the second skate. I had never gone ice skating before, I had always read how wonderfully free you feel, but, mum and dad didn't take us into the city very often. The Opera Ghost helped me up and got behind me, holding my waist to steady me as I walked; I held onto the wall that surrounded the perimeter of the ice rink whilst the Opera Ghost got onto the ice. "Have you ever ice skated before?" I asked over a loud gramophone and laughing children; the Opera Ghost paused.

"Thrice, once when I was five, another when I was ten and the last when I was seventeen" He replied, waiting for me to step onto the ice; I nodded and sighed, hesitantly stepping onto the slick surface. "That's it.." he whispered softly as I stepped onto it with both of my feet and moved toward him; I instantly felt off balance and grasped for him, clambering into his arms. The Opera Ghost chuckled "if I carry you the entire time, what fun will you have?" Asked he, skating away from the entrance and setting me back down on the ice; but never letting me go. "Now, it's just like walking, one foot in front of the other and I want you to push yourself as you step; propelling you forwards, hold onto the wall if you must, I am going over there and I want you to skate to me."

Said he, I attempted to protest but by the time I opened my mouth he was already a hundred yards before me! I sighed and looked around, children at the ages of seven or eight were jumping and twirling on the ice and I, a nineteen year old, was scared to even move! I worked up what courage I had and did as he said, pushed myself forwards; I gasped and quickly grasped onto the wall. "That's it! That's exactly it, Elizabeth!

Now, come to me, darling!" He cried, motioning for me to come closer; I smiled and did it again, the Opera Ghost clapped and I continued doing it until I felt his warm hands around me. I hugged him tightly and smelt his wonderful perfume; his heart was beating very fast as I snuggled close to his chest, he chuckled. Five more times we did this, and I felt like an expert skater afterwards; I didn't totally rely on the Opera Ghost and I could skate backwards! He and I now sat on a wooden bench, me sitting in his lap with my head on his chest and wrapped up in his cloak whilst he wrapped his arms around me and patted my back.

My stomach growled and I giggled "I will go fetch some food; you stay here, I will return shortly" said he, setting me down on the bench; he disappeared into a bakery. I smiled and watched the children skate for a moment; then I sighed and closed my eyes, only for them to be reopened by someone shouting my name. It was the Opera Ghost, he was on the ice and beckoning for me to come to him; my brows furrowed and I turned towards the bakery, then the Opera Ghost came off of the ice and walked to me.

"I thought you were getting food, I saw you disappear over there!...Then again, you did walk through my mirror...anyhow, I guess they didn't have anything good? No? Well, there's more than one-hey!" I cried, the Opera Ghost silently picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

I giggled "I know you're very strong, you don't have to prove it to me! I do love when you hold me, though, but, I'd rather listen to your heart then be slung over your shoulder...it's much more comfortable." Said I, peeking around at him, but he remained mute; that's when terror was struck into my soul. The Opera Ghost turned me towards the bakery he disappeared into only moments before and walking out of the bakery was a man in the exact same attire, then, I noticed this Opera Ghost didn't smell like the _real_ one...this one smelled of chocolate whilst the real smelled of ginger and mints. My mouth hung open for a few moments and my brain had to contemplate what all this meant, I finally came to the conclusion that I was in the arms of an imposter.

The_ real_ Opera Ghost had turned away and walked back into the bakery, so what was I to do? My only thought was to scream, and to scream as loud as I could; but my mouth became dry and my tongue flattened, my lips chapped and my throat cracked. I then panicked even more and began beating on the imposter's back with my fists "l-l-le-let me go!" I cried in a weak voice, hitting the man as hard as I could. The man grunted but continued on his way; the real Opera Ghost was still picking out food and tears of fear welled in my eyes, I had never been kidnapped before!

Now my legs began to swing and one of them connected with the man's stomach, causing him to drop me, I scurried away and stood; turning and attempting to run, alas, it's hard to run in ice skates. The man caught my dress and yanked me to him; I heard the ring of a bell and I looked up to find the real Opera Ghost walking out of the bakery, his head was turned though, and finally, I found the courage to scream. The man had thrown me over his shoulder again when I opened my mouth and let out the most piercing, blood curtailing scream I could; the real Opera Ghost turned, dropped the food, and ran as fast as he could. But, the imposter began to run also, I elbowed the back of the imposter's head, slowing him down for a few moments; what I didn't realize, was that we were only steps away from the dog carts. I stretched out to the real Opera Ghost, who had thrown off his skates, but for some reason, the real Opera Ghost slowed and then fell face down onto the cobblestone.

"Opera Ghost!" I screamed, kicking and punching wildly as I was thrown into a dog cart.


	12. Chapters Nineteen & Twenty

_**Chapter Nineteen: Operanapped!**_

November 5th, 1910

My heart raced as the doors to the dog cart shut and the imposter sat beside me; I jumped up and at once began banging at the doors. As I banged on the doors, out of the window, I saw my love face first on the cobblestone road; I banged even harder, in attempts to break the glass, but the imposter pulled me back. The imposter then pulled off the wide-brimmed hat (and mask) and revealed a disgusting face, the face of the Vicomte; he was smiling and I wanted to wipe that smile away. My hand shot out and connected with his left eye; he groaned and turned away, only to turn back bearing rope. He quickly overtook me, despite my best efforts, and tied my hands together, along with my feet; he laughed as I sat, defeated, beside him.

"I bet you think you're so clever" I hissed, looking up to him with glassy eyes; he nodded.

"Oh, my dear, I know I'm clever. How else would've I taken you from the Opera Ghost and came away virtually unscathed?" Said he as the horses for the dog cart ran at their top speeds. "I'm showing you my love for you, in doing this, showing you that I'll go to any length to obtain you...to make you mine" said he, gently touching my cheek; I turned and chomped at his finger, which he pulled quickly back with a chuckle.

"I will never be yours, Aaron, never! No matter how many times you do these sick, twisted things! Never!" I yelled, Aaron advanced upon me and grasped my cheeks with his left hand; squeezing them tightly together, puckering my lips. He slammed his lips to mine and kissed me for a while; turning away, breathing heavily afterwards.

"That's twice that I've tasted your lips" said he, turning to me "that's twice more than your Opera Ghost ever has" said he, dreamily.

"So? Unlike you, the Opera Ghost will have me for eternities to come! I am _his_, and my soul belongs to _him_; just as my heart does. You may think you have me, but you never have and you never will! So, I am tied up?

So you've kidnapped me? You will never have my hand, for it belongs to _him_!" I growled, there was a short pause "You are going to die, Aaron, and I will personally see to it that your death is the most horrific in the books!" I finished, staring into his beady eyes; all the Vicomte did was laugh, he laughed at my threats and he laughed at my _'speech'_. We returned to the Opera Populaire but I wasn't taken through the normal entrance, no, I was taken through the stable entrance.

A stinky, dark entrance which is used by stable boys or trainers. The Vicomte tied my hands behind my back, and untied my feet; so I could walk. The driver to the dog cart was Gerard, and he walked with me; as we walked, Gerard slipped me what felt like a key, I quickly balled my fist around it. I was taken to the Vicomte's bedroom and thrown on the bed; as I sat up Aaron began to talk. "The Opera Ghost was right this morning" he started "I did eavesdrop on your little conversation, Gerard spoke to you and you did not drink the liquid, Margarita" he paused and turned to me "what do you think I am?" asked he.

"A sick, twisted, ass filled with idle threats and empty words" I hissed, anger flaring up inside me, Gerard closed his eyes and flinched as the Vicomte laid his hand on his butler's shoulder; the Vicomte was laughing.

"Idle threats, eh?" He asked with a chuckle, I looked down to Gerard and noticed how exceptionally pale he was and that there were very dark circles round his eyes; Gerard was much thinner and shook uncontrollably. "Thanks to your Opera Ghost, I have given Mr. Gerard here a poison...a slow acting poison! In my pocket, here, is the antidote..." the Vicomte smiled, pulled out the vile of antidote and threw it against the wall, just as the Opera Ghost threw the shot-glass against the wall only hours beforehand. "I will allow you to say goodbye, he has already said goodbye to Mamma Giry; who is...tied up at the moment" said he with a sly chuckle; the Vicomte sauntered out of the room and gently closed the door.

Gerard looked up at me and I quickly slid to my knees, crawling to him. Gerard sat in a wooden chair, and before him I kneeled; Gerard quickly hugged me. "Elizabeth, get out of here, you need to get out of here and away from that...that psychopath; go back to your beloved, why he fell on his face? The monsieur forced me to shoot him with a tranquilizer dart; he should be unharmed when he wakes, only a minor headache. Elizabeth, do not worry about me, I am going to a better place...and not before long Mrs. Giry will be there with me; oh, pray, stop the tears!

I hate to see women cry!" said Gerard, wiping a fresh tear free of my face "get out as quickly as you can, and when you do, do not stop running; run until your feet bleed, Elizabeth! For, that is a better fate than ending with the Vicomte! Do not worry, Mrs. Giry will help Megan and your sister, so do not fret for them; if you fret for anyone, fret for yourself!" In this moment the Vicomte came back inside and ushered Gerard out...oh, what fresh hell will he endure?

The Vicomte left me alone so, I took the key that Gerard had given me and cut my bonds; I brought the key round and saw that it had the word _'Life'_ written on it in red paint, just like the red paint that covered the poster of Don Giovanni! I excitedly stuffed the key into my cloak's pocket and ran to a large floor-to-ceiling window and threw open two panels; revealing that I was on the seventh floor! My heart fell as cold wind flew past me, throwing my hair back, and played about the room; that's when I saw a sight that made my heart jump in joy, it was the Persian! The Persian was walking in the gardens (the window opened into the gardens of the Opera Populaire), just strolling along; I gave a sigh and yelled to him "Persian! Persian!

Look here!" I cried, leaning half of my body out of the window; anxious to catch my friend's attention. But, the Persian couldn't hear me at such a height, along with the blowing of the wind; I remembered the Persian telling me that the Opera Ghost called him by another name...oh, but what was it? It started with a D...Daniel?...Dane?...

"Daroga!" I screamed, the Persian instantly looked to where I was leaning out of the window; he waved to me and walked to a closer range. "Daroga, help! I've been kid-" but before I could finish the Vicomte grabbed my arms and attempted to yank me back; I screamed to the Persian for help once more, before the Vicomte threw me on the ground, next the Vicomte looked out of the window.

"Who were you yelling to you foolish girl? There is no one out there! Are you hallucinating?" The Vicomte growled, closing the panels and turning upon me; his brows furrowed. "How did you escape your bonds?

I tied them very tightly!" He yelled yanking my hand from me and examining my wrist, which was red from dried blood and had the indention of rope pressed hard to my skin. The Vicomte looked up to me with the face of regret and sorrow "I've hurt you...oh, my I've hurt the only thing I love!" He cried, sitting down upon the floor and burying his face in his hands; he gave a shaking sigh and looked back up at me with a tear stained face. All of a sudden I heard three, quiet knocks on the door; the Vicomte nor I moved towards it.

I feared, lest I move, he would react and overpower me again; the three knocks came again, louder this time. He nor I moved, again the knocks came...even louder; the Vicomte cursed, stood and walked to the door "what on earth do you-" all of a sudden the Vicomte was brutally punched, making him loose his balance and fall to the floor with a great clatter! It was the Persian who punched my captor! I jumped up and ran to the safety of the Persian's arms; hugging him tightly.

"Are you fine Elizabeth? Good, wait, wait you're talking too fast; what of the Opera Ghost? Oh, my! We must get to him immediately!" Cried the Persian, pulling me out of the Vicomte's room and into the lobby room where I saw Gerard lying upon the floor, his eyes closed and his skin was a deathly pale; Gerard wasn't breathing.

My heart sunk but I had no time to cry, we needed to get to the Opera Ghost, and quickly! Out of the room, out of backstage, down the stairs, and into a hansom we ran; the Persian ordered the runner to the General Square, where I last saw my beloved. We arrived within minutes and out of the hansom I jumped, his body was no where to be found; so I instantly began questioning people as to if they saw him. Every answer was 'no' and I felt my heart turn to ice in my chest; the Persian came up from behind me, panting, I turned to him with glassy eyes. "He's not here!

Oh, they've got him, Daroga, they've got him! It's my fault...I should've tried harder to break the glass, I should've fought harder against the Vicomte...oh, woe is me!" I cried, falling to my knees and sobbing; the Persian knelt down to me, no longer panting, and sighed.

"The Opera Ghost, as you know him by, is stronger and more cunning than you figure him to be; the Opera Ghost is probably alive and well, and most likely in a guise!" Cried the Persian, I looked up to him and nodded "so, stop those tears, your Opera Ghost is fine; he's probably in better shape than you or I" said the Persian with a chuckle. I nodded and wiped the tears from my face, that's when I noticed I was still in ice skates! The Persian helped me up and the both of us walked to the small bench that the Opera Ghost and I sat on only a few hours before; the sun started to sink and the Persian examined my wrists (the severity of the cuts). He shook his head "the Vicomte won't walk the earth for much longer after the Opera Ghost gets wind of these" said the Persian, with a wink.

I sighed and smiled, the Persian asked me where the Opera Ghost was when I was being kidnapped and I motioned to the small bakery; now the Persian glanced underneath the bench and pulled out a pink bag with the bakery's name on it. The Persian and I looked at each other and laughed.

_**Chapter Twenty: Rue De Rivoli**_

November 5th, 3:00pm

The Persian and I sat on that bench for a while, all my hunger had left me so the Persian snacked on biscuits and something called a churro. All I could do was sit and attempt to figure out where the Opera Ghost was, I believed the Persian when he said that the Opera Ghost was fine and in a guise; but what guise? Where? I sighed and the Persian hugged me. "Daroga, I cannot return to the Opera House, not whilst the Vicomte is there, it would be too easy for him; too easy for him to take me again. Where am I to go?" I asked him, he smiled.

"You will live with me in my flat, in Rue de Rivoli; the Opera Ghost knows where it is, and he knows you are under my care. As for your sister and Megan, they are under the care of Mamma Giry in the flat next to mine; come, dear, maybe the Opera Ghost is already there! Lets go, back into the hansom" said the Persian, helping me into the hansom and telling the driver to go to Rue de Rivoli; The Persian attempted to keep my spirits up by singing silly songs and telling me stories of when he was a child.

"Persian" I whispered "when I asked the Opera Ghost about his childhood, he was silent, why?" I asked, the Persian sighed.

"The Opera Ghost's childhood...was terrible, to say the least. His father was a stone mason, and his mother stayed home; but the Opera Ghost...he ran away because of...I don't think the Opera Ghost would like me to tell you...not yet." Said the Persian, I sighed in frustration and turned away; the Persian smiled. "You will know soon enough, child, have patience with him; for he received no patience as a child nor in adolescence. Elizabeth, do not hesitate to show him love...that he also lacked in those crucial years" added the Persian, quietly.

I nodded with a solemn face and the Persian asked me what the matter was, I then revealed to him the story of my parents deaths; the Persian smiled and hugged me. "Well" he started "you both can show each other the love you are lacking, you can fill the void for him and he can do the same for you...he will do anything for you." The Persian finished, I smiled.

"And I will do everything...and anything for him" said I, my voice breaking and the Persian enveloping me in another hug. Thunder rumbled and lightening cracked across the sky, soon after, rain pelted the earth; we arrived at Rue de Rivoli and quickly ran inside. The Persian introduced me to his loyal servant Darius who was kindhearted and very sweet; Darius informed us that three women were waiting in the Persian's rooms. The Persian and I quickly ran inside to find Victoria, Megan and Mamma Giry sitting in wooden chairs; Victoria yelled my name and jumped into my arms, where she wept into my shoulder. Megan was the first to catch sight of my wrists.

"My god! Elizabeth, what's happened to your wrists?" Megan cried as Victoria jumped down and they all gathered around me; staring at my bloody wrists. I explained to them what happened and Megan hugged the Persian, thanking him for saving me; Victoria hugged me again whilst Mamma stood before me with her head upon her breast. Mamma apologized for all she had done, and I embraced her; I forgave her, but warned her to never do it again.

Mamma Giry, Megan, Victoria, and the Persian sat around a small table; swapping stories and telling jokes. I stood by a small window, staring at the hansom which brought us here; something seemed odd about the driver, I shared this thought with the Persian, and everyone came over to investigate. "He does seem a bit...odd" Megan said "why is he still here? Did you tell him to stay, Persian?"

"No, in fact, I didn't tell him anything; I figured he would just leave afterwards, like most do." Said the Persian, standing beside me; the man was wearing a dark blue, hooded cloak with the hood pulled over his head, that's when it hit me. That was_ my_ cloak! I shared this with everyone and instantly the Persian sent Darius out to inquire about the man. Soon we saw Darius appear beside the hansom and call up to the man, the man slowly looked down at him; holding the reins, then Darius turned, and walked back inside.

The man turned his attention forwards again, and never let go of the reins. "He says he knows where the Margarita's beloved is" Darius said, before the Persian could grasp me, I ran out of the room and was at the door when I saw the man's head turn to me, he pulled something out of the cloak's pocket, it was a key and in red paint was written the word_ 'Life'_. My breath was caught in my throat as he returned the key to the cloak pocket; I pushed out of the flat and ran to the driver.

"You know of where my beloved is?" I asked, I could not see anything on the man's face, save two, yellow eyes. The man nodded; I felt my heart warm again. "Where is he? Pray, tell me!

Is he alive? Is he dead? Please, stop my suffering!" I cried, feeling tears come upon me again; the man remained mute and turned away. "No!

Please, I'll do anything! Do you require payment? Please...just...I'll do anything...anything for him; anything for my _époux"_ said I, grasping the man's leg and shaking it gently. The man turned back to me and stared at me hard, those yellow eyes seemed familiar, but I would remember someone with yellow eyes! "Please" I whispered "I love him more than life itself...look!

Look what I went through for him!" I cried, upturning my hands and showing the man my bloody lacerations; the man leaned over and held my arms, gently, I heard him sigh in frustration. "I would go through so much more for him...I would go to hell for that man; that's why I beg of you to give me something...anything...indicating where he is!" I cried, taking back my arms and holding his leg; the man sighed.

"Get in" the man said in a gruff voice, my heart sang and I jumped into the hansom as fast as my dress would allow me; the Persian yelled for the driver to wait, but the driver didn't listen, the horses reared and took off, hurtling us down the cobblestone road. I sighed and moments later we stopped, I looked out of the window to see that we were back at Rue de Rivoli and the Persian was still standing outside! My brows furrowed and I stepped out of the hansom, I turned to the driver.

"But, he is not here! The Opera Ghost wasn't in your flat" Said I to the Persian who walked up beside me; the Persian wore a smile on his face. I looked up to the driver with the yellow eyes, he was looking down at me and now he came down, off of the hansom and stood before me; he was a foot taller than me and a few inches taller than the Persian. All of a sudden the driver lowered his hood, and in lowering it his yellow eyes disappeared and black ones replaced them; and before me, stood the Opera Ghost. I squealed in delight and jumped into his arms, crying and kissing his cheek and neck; the Opera Ghost held me off of the ground and smiled as I showered him in kisses.

The Opera Ghost smiled to the Persian and held me bridal style as he carried me back into the Persian's flat. The Opera Ghost sat in a wooden chair, still with me in his arms; whilst everyone else stared in wonder at he and I. "So" I whispered, the Opera Ghost looked down at me, his black eyes were gentle and soft "you were the driver the entire time" said I, smiling up to him.

"Well, when I came to my senses I realized what happened and ran back to the Opera Populaire, where I saw you and the Daroga running out as fast as you could; I then took on the guise of a driver and drove you both to the General Square, where I heard you inquiring for me." The Opera Ghost paused and caressed my cheek with his index finger; then he leaned down and hesitantly kissed my forehead. "Your _époux, _hum?" He asked, puffing out his chest; I smiled and kissed his hand "if it is a husband you are looking for, it is a husband you shall have...I have written a wonderful wedding mass...and I have given you the ring of my heart..." he trailed off, and raised his eyebrows. My heart rate skyrocketed, was he asking me to marry him?

Or...was he already my fiancé?


	13. Chapter Twenty One

_**Chapter Twenty One: Who Will Marry A Monster?**_

November 5th, 1910, 4:40pm

I lay in the Opera Ghost's arms and stared at him for a moment, "yes..." I whispered, breathlessly, he turned an ear towards me and asked me what I said, "yes, I do...yes!" I cried, throwing my arms around him.

"Yes, you do...what?" Asked he with a sly smile, I smiled from ear to ear.

"Yes, I want to be your living, loving wife" said I, excitedly; the Opera Ghost smiled and he hugged me as tightly as he could. Our friends stood before us in utter confusion; I turned and smiled to them, sitting up on my fiancé's lap. "We're getting married" said I, looking from the Opera Ghost to Victoria and Megan and then to Mamma, lastly to the Persian. Victoria squealed and hugged Megan, who was jumping for joy; Mamma ran to me and hugged me whilst the Persian shook the Opera Ghost's hand. That's when I remembered the horrid fate of Gerard, I looked up to Mamma and then to the Persian; Mamma asked what the matter was and slowly, I told her.

Tears filled Mamma's eyes and she slowly sat in a wooden chair, she sighed and nodded "don't fret, sweet child, I will see him soon; and when a life is taken, a life is given. In exchange for Gerard's life, you will have a child, Elizabeth." Mamma's tears were gone and she patted my hand, I smiled and with my other hand I grasped my fiancé's hand. The Opera Ghost brought my hand to his lips and softly kissed the top, smiling as he did so; in staring at my fiancé a thought came to mind. What were we going to do about the Vicomte?

This question I asked the Opera Ghost, he sighed "I will return to the Opera Populaire, along with the Daroga, and no one else. I cannot risk what is most precious to me.." said he, tenderly touching my cheek; I smiled.

"But, I'll be worried!...Promise me, Opera Ghost, promise me you'll come back alive! Promise me you'll come back and we'll be married! Promise me" I whispered, he smiled and softly kissed my lips.

"I do not just promise you, darling, I swear to you I will come back, alive, and I will come back bearing a priest who will marry us on the spot. Fret not, my angel of music, I will come back to you; and we will live in a little flat somewhere, and I will take you out on Sundays! During the weekdays I will keep you amused, for I am the very first ventriloquist, I also know many card tricks and things of that sort. I will give to you whatever you desire, Elizabeth, anything!" Said he, pulling me to him and kissing my cheeks, I smiled and hugged him.

With that, and a kiss to the forehead, the Opera Ghost and Persian left us in his little flat in the Rue de Rivoli. I ran to the window and watched as the Persian clambered into the hansom whilst my fiancé got into the driver's seat, pulled up his hood and they all started riding away.

_**Half an hour later...**_

"I can't take it anymore!" I cried, pacing about the Persian's flat, his servant, Darius joined us on the Persian's orders to make sure that we didn't try to go to the Opera Populaire.

"Calm down, sissy, they're probably having trouble getting a priest! There's not very many of them now-a-days that won't give the media all of your information!" Cried Victoria with a giggle. I sighed and fell down onto the Persian's bed, I, at once, stood again and began pacing. That's when there was a knock on the door; Darius quickly answered it and came back bearing a news paper. It was that evening's issue.

"There's a special bulletin! **'Margarita of the Opera Populaire to be Wedded'** it reads!" Darius cried, I ran to him as he read it aloud "It says _'The Margarita of the Opera Populaire, Elizabeth de Chagny, is to be wedded this afternoon at Rue de Rivoli with the masked man everyone calls The Opera Ghost, apparently, he's not so ghostly after all. Earlier he called upon Father St. Michael to wed them, but the father politely declined! He says "I'm not going to wed a monster to a beautiful woman!";_

_ The Opera Ghost has called on other priests since, but they have all given the same response. Who will help the unhappy couple? What priest in Paris would marry a monster to a lady of high standing? I, myself, pity this couple; if you would marry these two people, please, do so. It would mean the world to the beautiful Margarita; fret not, members of Paris, the Margarita Elizabeth will continue to sing at the Opera Populaire._

_Maybe, just maybe she will have a child, and maybe her beautiful voice and legacy will be carried on through that child.'_ There you have it" Darius said, finishing the small article. I walked back to the window and looked out to see a small crowd gathering; I sighed and pleadingly looked to Darius.

"Please, Darius, let me go to my fiancé; if you cannot do that, at least, let me call upon a priest to help! No one will help if the Opera Ghost asks, but they may if I do. Please, Darius, please!" I cried, Darius stood and I kneeled down, placing my hands palm together, as if I was to pray; Darius sighed and Victoria ran beside me, along with Megan, and got into the same position as I. Darius sighed again and nodded; I hugged my sister and friend, all three of us stood and began to walk out when I looked to Mamma Giry.

She said she would stay behind, if the Opera Ghost and the Persian returned; I thanked her and Darius called a hansom, we all clambered inside and drove off in search of a willing priest. We reached a little white church, five miles from the Opera Populaire, and all four of us hurried inside to find a man in a brown robe crouched below a statue of Jesus with outstretched arms and upturned palms. This man was mumbling and from his neck I saw a silver cross on a necklace; the man sighed. "You come with a question, child" said he, sitting up but still facing the statue.

"Y-yes, I am Elizabeth de Chagny and my fiancé and I would like to be married, but, no one will marry us. He is the only thing that I live for, he means every-" I attempted to say, but the priest cut me off.

"I know, child, I know!" The priest shouted, turning and walking to me, and sighing. This priest was in his late seventies with white hair, dulled blue eyes, and wrinkled skin; but he wore a smile. "I will marry you to him; on one condition. He must tell you his real name; you cannot call him 'Opera Ghost' for the rest of eternity."

Said the priest; I quickly nodded and pulled him out of the church and pushed him into the hansom. Despite Darius's protests, the driver took us to the Opera Populaire, where there was a crowd gathered; I grasped the priest's hand and pulled him through the shouting people. Inside there was no less din; people everywhere, shouting, yelling, running about, it was a mad house! I started to call for my beloved, but the priest hushed me; "he cannot hear you, for, they are all in the cellars of the Opera House; he, the man you call_ 'the Persian'_ and the Vicomte Benjamin. We must hurry!"

Cried the priest, now grasping my wrist and pulling me towards the cellars with all speed; both he and I carried lanterns as the five of us ventured down to the house on the lake.


	14. Chapters Twenty Two and Three

_**Chapter Twenty Two: Torture Chamber**_

November 5th, 1910

I had thrown my ice skates to the side and ran on my bare feet; I carried a lantern and attempted to avoid sharp, hidden objects on the stone floor. The floor was surprisingly warm, and very dusty in the third cellar; we were all running as fast as we could, in the dark, with two little beams of red light from our lanterns guiding the way. I ran behind the priest, who, was leading the way despite never having been in the cellars of the Opera Populaire; behind me ran Victoria and behind her came Megan, bringing up the tail was Darius. "Priest, priest, have they began to duel already?" Asked Victoria with a huff from behind me.

"Call me Father, child, and no, they have not; for, the Opera Ghost and the Persian have not discovered the Vicomte Benjamin yet." Answered the Priest; I was relieved and felt spirited again, that's when I remembered the siren. I told everyone of the siren as we ran and the priest stopped, causing me to knock into him; pushing him down, Victoria then knocked into us...which made Megan knock into her...and lastly, making Darius join the jumble as well. We all sat in the human jumble for a few moments, too tired to untangle ourselves, we just breathed; I then told them all of how I got past the siren, the priest was first to speak.

"You mustn't sing this time, Elizabeth de Chagny! We need to be stealthy...or...we could..." The priest began to explain his plan into our open ears.

_**Twenty minutes later, on the shores of the lake...**_

I slowly got into the gondola, taking up the paddle and quietly pushing myself through the ink colored water. Then, I heard the heavenly singing again; entrancing me. I sighed happily and looked forwards to see the house upon the lake! It had taken me longer to paddle to the middle of the lake last time than it took me to get to the shores of the house this time! My brows furrowed at this thought, then, I realized that I wasn't paddling any longer; but the gondola was still moving!

I turned to find two wet hands grasping the gondola, pushing it along. These hands didn't look normal, no, not normal at all; these hands were as white as pure snow and the fingers were the size of a pen! The hand's fingernails were long, but clean, and sharp; the fingers were very bony. I then felt the small boat bump against the shore, but the hands remained; slowly, cautiously, I moved towards the hands and touched one. The hand shot back into the water, I gasped, but the other hand remained; slowly, gently I reached out again, but this time, I completely laid my hand on the cold, wet one.

The hand did not move, that's when I remembered that the 'siren' was actually the Opera Ghost singing through a reed! So, this was the Opera Ghost's hand? This is what his hands look like, outside of his black gloves? I sighed and leaned down to it, removing my hand and kissing the top of the 'siren's hand. Now, I felt someone grasp my dress and yank me from the small boat; I quickly turned to find the Persian, with an angry expression on his face, standing before me.

I gave an idiotic smile, and out of the lake, behind me, emerged the Opera Ghost; soaking wet from head to toe. The Opera Ghost walked beside the Persian and the two of them crossed their arms, simultaneously; I gave a nervous giggle and pointed towards the other shore. "I brought a priest" said I, giving another asinine smile; the Opera Ghost sighed in frustration and rubbed his face, whilst the Persian shook his head.

"We told you, specifically, not to come to the Opera Populaire! So, what do you do? Elizabeth...is everyone else with you?" Asked the Persian, looking up to me with his eyes of jade; the Opera Ghost stared at me also. I nodded and the Persian hit his head with his hands "I'm going to kill Darius" he hissed; balling his hands into fists, I quickly shook my head.

"No, no, no, no! Darius was the only one protesting against the idea of coming here!...I just wanted to find a priest...and I got so wrapped up...it's my fault, Daroga, I'm sorry; I'll go back to the others." I said, turning to the small boat; I was stopped by the Persian's hand on my arm.

"No, Elizabeth" the Persian sighed "you're already here, but, you will remain locked in a bedroom; where you're safe. The Opera Ghost will turn the others back to my home, where you two will be married." Said the Persian, that's when I remembered the priest's condition for marrying the Opera Ghost and I. I gave an exclamation that made the Opera Ghost stop from entering the lake again.

"The priest that agreed to marry us" I started, walking over to him and holding his hands "will only marry us on the condition that you tell me your real name, he said that I _'can't call you the Opera Ghost for an eternity'_...there's not many other priests that will marry us, my sweet, so I...agreed. But if it's not fine with you we can-" I attempted to say, but the Opera Ghost put his long, index finger to my lips, hushing me.

"No, my angel of music, it is around the time that I must tell you, and show you, who the Opera Ghost really is. I will tell you what the Opera Ghost's real name is, when our vows have been said and the ring of my love is again gracing your finger; when your white dress sparkles and we both utter the words _'I do'_, that is when, my angel, that is when you will hear my name." The Opera Ghost said, leaning down to me and kissing my cheek; I had to take of my ring and give it to the decided flower girl, my sister, Victoria. I didn't want him to let go, but, he had to, so, with that; he walked back into the lake, to send the others back to Rue de Rivoli. The Persian grasped my arm and pulled me into the house upon the lake, the Persian then pushed me into the same bedroom with the grey, shell bed I woke up in days beforehand!

With a warning of not to leave, the Persian left me to my thoughts; I sat down upon the swan bed, and that's when I heard my name being whispered. All of a sudden, the closet closed and out stepped a very dirty, stained Vicomte Aaron Benjamin; I ran to the bedroom door and began pounding on it, screaming for the Persian. The door slowly opened, and I ran out, the Vicomte striding after me; as I entered the hallway I saw the Persian upon the floor with a bleeding temple, I checked his pulse, thankfully, he was still alive. I heard the Vicomte's step in the hallway, so I ran to a white, wooden door with a silver knob; threw it open, and quietly closed it behind me. I held my breath as I heard the Vicomte calling me to come out, I held my tongue; that's when a light shined in the room I was in.

This room was hexagonal shaped with mirrors covering the walls, and in one corner of the room there was an iron tree with iron branches; below that there was a noose looking object. Those mirrors were about two feet taller than the Opera Ghost...three feet taller than I! I quickly looked up, towards the light, and saw a small window where the Vicomte's face was; he was smirking, which made my blood boil. "Do you know what room you're in, lovely? I do, it is your Opera Ghost's torture chamber!

That's right, you walked straight into a torture chamber; ah, but where is the door? Can you not find it from the illusions of the mirrors?" The Vicomte stopped and his smirk grew "ah, look here, I can turn up the heat! Now, dearest, I have a bargain for you; you agree to marry me to-night and I won't fry you to a crisp. What say you to that?"

Asked he, cocking an eyebrow and smiling; my anger had taken hold of me."I would rather burn in hell for all eternity than agree to marry you!" I hissed, fire in my eyes; the Vicomte sighed and shook his head. As time wore on I could feel the room gradually grow hotter, and hotter, and hotter; until I had stripped off the top layers of my dress and sweat was rolling down my forehead and creating pools on the ground. My mouth was open and sucking in thick, hot air; my tongue dried and shriveled to almost nothing.

I coughed and fell against a mirror, it was steaming hot! I cried out and fell to the ground, groaning and gently holding my burned arm; I laid on my back and outstretched my arms, closing my eyes and feeling the heat come in waves over my body. My lips cracked and began to bleed whilst I had to keep blinking every second or so to keep my eyes from drying out; my throat turned dusty and I thought I could feel my skin bubbling. Again the Vicomte's face appeared in the small window and said that if I would marry him, the torture would stop; "n-never" I whispered as loud as I could. He walked away, my eyes closed, and I laid in the heat of the torture chamber for god knows how long.

Then, in my exhaustion, I started to think...why would the Opera Ghost need a torture chamber, anyways?

_**Chapter Twenty Three: The Iron Forest**_

Date: Unknown. 1910, Time: Unknown.

I needed water, but where was I to find water in this iron hell? Everywhere I looked there were iron trees! I was stuck, and stuck in an iron forest! I rolled onto my stomach and painstakingly pulled myself to the great, iron tree; the first iron tree that I had laid eyes upon. My arms shook as they grasped one of the strong, iron branches and attempted to heave myself up; they trembled from the strain and finally, they dropped, dropping my body as well.

I then put my arms underneath me and pushed myself up; I now sat on my bottom and leaned against the iron tree, the maker of this misery. I sighed and watched as sweat beads rolled down my arms and jumped off of my fingertips; landing on the floor and sizzling. Where was my fiancé? Surely it cannot take that long to turn people home! Surely it cannot...surely...surely...all of a sudden, the light for this room of trickery and doom was turned out, and where I thought the sun to be; the moon now rose and it's beams came down upon me.

I smiled and thanked the gods for night! But, what I soon found out was that it was even hotter at night than it was during the day! That evil Vicomte turned up the heat into fooling my head! I sighed and I thought I heard voices...yes, they were voices, indeed! They were familiar voices too!

One was of the villainous Vicomte, another was of the Persian and the last was...was...the Priest! But, where was the Opera Ghost? Where was my fiancé? It sounded as if the trio was in the room beside this one; but I was far too exhausted to move towards their voices. I quieted my mind and attempted to make out what each of them said; the Vicomte spoke first.

"You'll never find her! For, she's either dead or on the cusp of death as we speak! If I cannot have her as my bride, not one other will either!" Yelled the Vicomte, laughing manically afterwards; the Vicomte was certainly right, I felt drained and I could not move...my mouth made words but my voice box had all but dried, so all that came out were little whimpers and horrid sounds.

"What in the devil is that?" Asked the Priest, in urgency.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's coming from the next room!" Cried the Persian, all of a sudden I heard the Vicomte grunt and then I heard a _'thump!'_, no doubt the Persian punched him. "You will tell us where she is, Vicomte, if I have to beat it out of you, I will not hesitate to!" Hissed the Persian, I then came up with an idea; I picked up the noose object and I threw it, meaning for it to hit mirrors closest to where the voices originated.

But, all strength abandoned me and the noose object landed a foot or so shy of the wall; I sighed and attempted to cry, but I had not the water to make tears. I then began to try and call out to my friends, again, all that came out were horrible grunts and groans; the Priest banged on the wall and asked if anyone was in the room, I strained and strained, but all that came out where high-pitched squeaks. I moved forwards a little too far and fell onto my arms, for the only thing that was keeping me up was the iron tree; I didn't hear anything more from the room beside this one, so I turned my attention back to the iron forest. The moon died away and the sun came again; trees, trees everywhere, but not an ounce of shade was given. For, these trees, iron trees, had no leaves; only iron trunks and bare branches.

I rolled onto my back once more and stared high into the sky, I could see the tops of the trees, I could see clouds too; fluffy, white clouds floating carelessly through the sky. Now, I heard the Persian's voice "is there anyone in there? Was that you, making the sounds a few moments ago?" I smiled and grunted; the Persian's voice was close, very close, I could tell he was just outside this hellish forest. The Priest then asked the Persian what the matter was, and in a solemn voice the Persian replied "that room, to which we hear the voice, is the torture chamber".

Slowly, I stripped down to a small under-dress; which is only thin, white cloth that only runs down to a woman's knees and is fashioned as a V-neck. I had taken off my dress, corset, hoop, camisole, crinoline, petticoat, and bodice; all that was left was my small under-dress, pants (American Translation: underwear) and slip (Modern Translation: Bra). The Persian and Priest continued speaking to one another, but I could not make out what they said; not until the Persian stepped closer to the wall. "Yes, Father, I do think it is her...but I do not have the key to get inside! That Vicomte locked the door, and I doubt, if the young lady cannot speak, she cannot locate the door in that hellish illusion!"

My heart fell and hopelessness spread over me, all of this happened...on my wedding day, no less! My wedding day...oh, but where is my groom? I closed my eyes again and in my mind's eye, I saw that little key that Gerard had given to me; that little key with the red writing on it...the writing of the word _'Life'_. My heart jumped to my dried, dusty throat and I smiled; but, did the Persian understand Morse code? I didn't care at that moment, I rolled myself to my stomach and, using only my arms, I drug myself to where the Persian's and the Priest's voices were strongest in this iron hell.

I raised up my hand and let it hit the wall softly once, then hard once, then softly twice more; that is the letter L in Morse code. I heard someone scurry to the wall and then I heard the Priest's voice "Persian, do you have paper and a pen? Good, copy down what I tell you, right now, write down L; good. Elizabeth, we can hear you, child, we have an L so far, pray continue!" Cried the priest, I smiled and it the wall softly twice; the letter now being I.

"Right, Persian, copy down I" said the Priest, I then heard the quick scratching of a pen on paper. Next I hit the wall softly, twice, hard once, and softly again; indicating and F. This pattern of communication went on until I had given the Priest and the Persian the sentence _'Life key with Opera Ghost'_.

"The key to her life is with the Opera Ghost! We must find him! This is his house, after all." said the Persian, urgently; the Persian stepped closer to the wall "do not fret, Elizabeth, we'll get you out of there! Whatever you do, do not touch the Punjab lasso!

We're going to find your fiancé, do not fret!" Yelled the Persian, I then heard quick footfall moving away and I heard a door slam shut. I looked down to the noose like object, _'so, that's called a Punjab lasso'_ I thought; I even thought of moving towards it, but I had not the strength, nor the energy. I turned towards the iron tree with it's iron bark and iron branches; it seemed to elongate and the room began to spin, spinning the iron forest as well, was I spinning? I couldn't tell, all of a sudden I heard a heavenly noise, it was the soft pitter patter of rain!

Rain! Oh, heavenly rain! I joyously opened my mouth to catch the drops, but no drops came to me. I waited and waited as the soft pitter patter grew into rumbles; my mouth opened wider and I waited on the droplets to hit my crisping body, but none did. Sadly, my mouth closed and I looked about this traitorous forest, I heard the rain, I even smelt the rain; yet, this forest hid it from me, this iron forest with no leaves, it hid it from me!

I must get away from this damning forest! I must flee from this forest of iron! But how? Now, I sat up, feeling angry, and very, very thirsty; but, a bit invigorated. I stood and stumbled to the iron tree; then I turned upon the rest of the forest and put my hands out, I was going to get out of there one way or another!

As I walked out of the forest, my hands hit something warm and I saw my reflection; that's when I remembered that I was in the torture chamber, not a forest! Dirt was in streaks on my cheeks whilst my hair lay limply on my bosom, tortured from the heat; sweat poured from my forehead, and I was the overall image of the word _'overheated'_. I sighed and my hands fell to my sides; the little under-dress I wore was soaked and stuck to my body, even the V-neck began to sag down! I turned and began to walk to the other side of the torture chamber when my foot struck something; I gave what I could of a cry and looked down to find a little, black nail sticking out of the floor. I bent down and easily pulled the nail up, revealing several loose floorboards, these I pried up and underneath was water!

Sweet, cold water! As quickly as I could I bent down to the hole and drank several large gulps of water, moistening my throat once more and repairing my cracked lips; I dipped both of my arms into the water and cooled myself down. I bent down for another drink when I beheld a sight that made my stomach churn, my lips were to the water and I opened my eyes; before me, was a decomposing body. I screamed and shot back, spitting and wiping my mouth as my back lay against a mirror; staring at the mangled body in horror. It was a man, a man that had green eyes and brown hair; I never knew the man, thankfully, but that didn't make it less disgusting.

I drank from that water!


	15. Chapters Twenty Four and Five

_**Chapter Twenty Four: Where is the Opera Ghost?**_

Date: Unknown, 1910, Time: Unknown.

Despite the heat, I pulled my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around my knees; sure, I felt better, but I had just drank water that a body was decomposing in! I cringed and turned away from the hole, towards the mirror where I saw endless trees and endless reflections of a sad, trapped little girl, staring back at me. A sad, trapped, overheated, lovesick little girl who longed to be married! That's when I remembered I gained my voice back; I stood and started pounding on the mirrors, screaming for anyone as I did so (but, mostly for the Opera Ghost). "Opera Ghost!

Persian! Priest! Anyone, help!" I cried, smashing my fists against the huge mirrors; but there was no answer, no nothing! Just utter, sad, frightening silence; I yelled and screamed more, but I got the same result, nothing.

I sighed and turned, now facing the body; I noticed a rancid smell and coughed, hurrying and placing the wood back, along with the nail. I turned and picked up the Punjab lasso; turning it over and over on my fingertips, I then looked back to the horrid iron tree, and an idea sprang from my overheated brain. I quickly walked to the iron tree, sighed, and pulled my body up onto it's first iron branch; I thought the tree might wobble, but it stood firm. Up, up, up I went until I stood on the very tippy top of the iron tree; a whole head lower than the small window! I cursed, but this is why I brought the Punjab lasso; with the Punjab lasso in my mouth I steadied myself with my arms on the mirrors.

Then, taking up the Punjab lasso I threw it up, hitting the small window; I smiled and threw it a bit higher, that's when it caught on something. My brows furrowed and I pulled it down, but the lasso didn't budge, it was caught on something and it wasn't coming off; I smiled and hoped the rope would hold. Cautiously lifting myself off of the iron tree and totally relying on the strength of the rope; I pulled myself up onto the rope until I was face to face with the window. I smiled and laughed joyously; but I wasn't out of the forest yet, up I climbed until there was no more of the lasso to climb on. I sighed and swung my feet, hitting the window gently at first, and then harder...and harder...and harder until_ 'smash!'_

The window broke as I swung to hit it once more, glass shards rained over my legs, slicing them to ribbons; but I didn't care, I was free! I swung once more and flew into the room, falling on my stomach; I laid on the ground for a few moments, regaining my breath and trying to wrap my brain around what just ensued. I looked around and saw that I was in a sort of theater room; there were red, velvet chairs from the amphitheater lined in rows and a large, red, curtain behind them. I pushed myself up and turned around to find that the window was, in fact, much larger on this side; the window was the size of half a scene from _Don Giovanni_, and at least, my height! I walked down and out of this room to find, to the left, the bedroom the Persian told me to stay in and, to the right, a WC.

Down the hallway I continued until I turned to the kitchen, I scavenged through the cabinets until I finally found a crystal champagne glass; a little posh for the occasion, but it was the first glass I found. I hurried to the sink and gulped down several glasses of water; thankful that I didn't have to drink the decomposing body water again. Hydrated, I found my way out of the house on the lake and I stood on the shore; blood going in streams down my legs and creating dark red pools in the yellow sand. There was no sign of the Persian, the Priest, the Opera Ghost, or the gondola! I thought that maybe the Persian and Priest took it to the other shore in search of the Opera Ghost; then, I heard singing, beautiful, harmonious singing; the singing of my Opera Ghost.

Waves of relief crashed over me, I jumped in utter happiness; then, someone grasped my waist, but before I could turn to discern who the person was I was pushed into the inky lake and my head was forced under. My arms flailed whilst my legs kicked wildly; I let out a scream which turned into air bubbles under the water. The person ripped my head from the water, but threw my body farther into the lake; I coughed and hacked, whilst gasping for air and rubbing the water out of my eyes. When everything was clear again, I saw that it was the Vicomte standing before me with a malicious expression on his face; he slowly, intimidatingly, walked closer to me. "Ah, my love, my wildflower, my sweet honeysuckle!

Look, look here! You and I have the same scars, look, look to my wrists! I was able to escape my bonds...and as it appears, so were you; not unscathed, as your legs are torn to shreds, my dear!" He cried, picking up my right leg from the inky lake and examining it; then, he kissed it, very slowly. "My dear, I can be as sweet as candy and as harmless as a fly to you, if you marry me; if you don't, I will not stop hunting for you and I will marry you by force."

The Vicomte hissed as I backed farther into the lake, the water was now up to my waist and he continued to advance upon me. The water now neared my bosom and the Vicomte stopped; he heard the singing and smiled. As I looked to this man, this horrible, wretched man, I felt trapped and alone...but I did have one advantage on him...he loved me and he would do anything for me; I sighed, and I knew the Opera Ghost was listening, for the singing stopped. "Let us stop this childish game" said I, gathering my courage as I stepped closer to the Vicomte "let us end this" I whispered.

"Ah, end this we will, with the ring of _my_ love upon your finger! Not that Opera Ghost's" hissed the Vicomte, I sighed.

"I'm becoming very...very.." I trailed off, faking a faint; the Vicomte ran to me and grasped me before my body could plunge into the water. I felt the Vicomte carry me out of the lake and place me somewhere soft; it was a bed, a bed indeed! This faint I faked for a very long while, I opened my eyes what felt like hours later to see that the Vicomte wrapped my legs in gauze, along with my wrists, and was now sitting by a fireplace; writing in a journal. Dare I move? Dare I face this madman again?

I didn't have to decide; for, he looked over to me and saw my open eyes; the Vicomte stood and rushed to my side, yanking my hand from me and kissing the top, whispering how sorry he was. The Vicomte explained that I had only been_ 'knocked out'_ for around ten minutes and that the day was November 6th, and the time was four o'clock in the afternoon...my only thought was, where is my fiancé? That's when I heard the front door of the house on the lake open, and I heard the voices of the Persian and the Priest...but, where was the Opera Ghost? The Vicomte jumped up and held a pistol to the door, but, when the two men came in bearing firearms also; the Persian with his favorite revolver and the Priest with a pistol, both of these cocked and ready. I laid my head back and sighed in joy and relief, the Persian and Priest brought down the Vicomte and chained him to the wall.

Afterwards, the men ran to me and hugged me hard, I smiled and asked what took them so long. "We were trying to track down your fiancé, but he is no where to be found! We checked the upper levels and the lower levels, but we came up with naught; the others are waiting on the far shore, waiting for the bride to return." Said the Priest, I then told the two of the singing and the Persian sighed.

"Yes, the others said that your fiancé did indeed come to them and tell them to turn back to Rue de Rivoli; but they refused, he threatened and pushed them, but they stood firm. They said he remained until they heard a scream; then, they said that he ran into the water, they hadn't seen him since. I wonder why he did not show himself in your distress..." explained the Persian, I shrugged and the two men took me out, leaving the Vicomte chained up; we returned to the shore and I called and called for the Opera Ghost, begging him to come back. I shook my head and turned to the Priest, who was smiling, my brows furrowed and then I saw his eyes; the Priest's eyes were the very same eyes I saw at the Halloween masquerade...the very same eyes I fell in love with. I jumped into the Priest's arms and closed my eyes, smelling the perfume of ginger and mint; that's when the Priest put me down and shrugged off his clothes, revealing a black cloak with the collar upturned, a white half-mask on his face, and out of the cloak he pulled a black, wide-brimmed hat which he placed on his head full of black hair.

It was _my_ Opera Ghost, _my_ fiancé! He enveloped me in his arms and wrapped his cloak around me; holding me close to him. Tears of joy fell from my eyes as I repeated the words _'I love you'_ over and over, whilst he lifted me from the ground and held me bridal style. "The real priest is on the other shore, awaiting us with the others...are you ready to be married to a monster?"

_**Chapter Twenty Five: Mr. and Mrs. Erik?**_

We all clambered into the gondola where the Opera Ghost studied my injuries "the legs were of my own doing...it got me out of that iron forest, though" said I as the Opera Ghost unraveled the gauze that covered my legs.

"Iron forest..." he said breathlessly "when did you go into the torture chamber?" he asked quickly; I explained to him what happened, about the Vicomte, the heat, the bargain, the dead body, and finally, my escape. The Opera Ghost now paid attention to my clothes, he shook his head, and touched the thin, soiled fabric; he now took up my hands, and I noticed that the Persian was the one pushing us along. "My angel of music, I apologize a million times over for you going through that...the Vicomte will curse the day he decided to cross me; the day he decided to harm you...my _living_ wife. In a few moments, we will hit the shore and we will be married; you will be married to a monster...but I will make you the happiest woman on earth!"

Cried the Opera Ghost, kissing the tops of my hands; I shook my head. "No, I will not be married to a monster, for, you are_ not_ a monster! You are a genius, Opera Ghost, you are a composer, a-a magician, a man of the hunt, a contractor, and soon...soon, Opera Ghost, I will make you a father." Said I, staring into his shining, black eyes; the Opera Ghost turned away from me for a moment, his head in his hands, and I thought I heard him sob! Fear was stricken into my heart, does he not want to be a father?

"Oh, oh, my love! Please, if you do not want to be a father; we do not have to bare a child! It can remain just you and I" I said quickly, leaning forwards and grasping his shoulders; massaging them gently. The Opera Ghost quickly turned, wiping his face.

"No! Elizabeth...having a child is one of the only things I've ever wanted...but I feared if, if I were to have one I would pass on..._this_!" Yelled he, ripping off his mask; also making his hat fall to the boat. The left side of my Opera Ghost's face was distorted to the point of un-recognition; his eyes were the same, but his lip was curled and cut, along with some of his forehead. Some of his forehead was cut open and looked to be burned; for the skin was a pinkish red and looked to have bubbles.

A normal person would've fell back in fear or disgust, but I am not a normal person; I sat before the Opera Ghost, staring at him, mainly at the distinction between the right and left sides of his face. "Now, you see, my dear, why I must wear the mask; now you see why, why I cannot have what I most desire..." he whispered, reaching out and touching my cheek. He expected me to yank myself back, but I did not, I remained stationary; I then reached out and touched his left cheek "now you see, why I am a monster."

I was quiet for a moment, and then I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. "Look, you are crying! I've frightened you! I've frightened my most precious thing...frightened her away from me..." said he, turning away from me and standing; I stood, tears running down my cheeks and grasped his hand, he turned halfway to me.

"I cry, Opera Ghost, not of fear; but I cry because you see yourself in such a way! Opera Ghost, sweet, sweet Opera Ghost! I do not see you as a monster, as much as you call yourself a monster, I do not see one when I look at you, beloved, do you want to know what I see you as?" I asked, he turned fully towards me and hid his face; I bent down in attempts to see his face, but he turned away and asked me what I saw him as. "Don Juan, I see you as a regular Don Juan; with your intelligence, your suavity, your swagger, the manliness which you carry yourself with, your utter cunningness, your protective nature, and you're-you're mysteriousness.

It captures me, Opera Ghost, I am entranced every time I look to you!" I cried as he lifted his head again, staring into my eyes; I quickly went to him and laid my head and arm down upon his chest. I sighed in happiness "I love you, and nothing, nothing can change that!" I cried, kissing his chest. The Opera Ghost shook his head and looked to me with pitiful eyes; pitiful, sadness filled eyes.

"Opera Ghost, you need only tell me your name and then you will be mine forever! Tell me your name, and we will wed, then, then I will be the happiest woman on earth!...You will make me so!" I cried, grasping his hands and attempting to make him look at me "why won't you look at me?" I whispered, two tears running down my cheeks; the Opera Ghost took his hands from me and pushed the tears aside.

"I cannot...I cannot bind you, my love, to such a monster..." he whispered and kissed my cheek, then, pulling his mask back on he jumped off of the gondola and into the lake.

"Opera Ghost!" I cried, attempting to jump after him, but the Persian grasped me and held me in the small boat. I turned upon the Persian and started hitting him, yelling at him to let me go; the Persian sat me down and I stopped hitting him, feeling it was useless, I sobbed. "Why did he do such a thing?" I asked as the Persian hugged me "What is his name, Daroga?

Mon dieu, what is his name?!" I yelled, shaking the Persian; the Persian sighed.

"His name is Erik, that is the Opera Ghost's name, Erik." Said the Persian, hugging me again and attempting to soothe me; stroking my hair and whispering kind words to me as I cried into his shoulder.

_**Back in Elizabeth's room, on the surface...**_

I sat at my window and watched the storm clouds roll in, Victoria gave my ring back after the Persian spoke to everyone; I was incoherent and too busy crying my eyes out to speak. I laid my arms down upon the windowsill and sighed as lightening began to illuminate the sky; from my gramophone _'The Four Seasons'_ by Vivaldi was playing, it was currently on Summer; which, to me, sounded like it should've been named Winter. The engagement ring sat upon my marriage finger, but the wonderful diamond did not shine amazingly like it normally did; now, in it was shown the dull, grey clouds that mirrored my mood. Why would the Opera Ghost do that, after being so excited about our wedding? Why would he do such a thing?

The only answer I found for these questions was that the problem was me, I pushed too hard, I caused him to do that; I wrecked my own marriage, I destroyed my own happiness. In the midst of all of those self-destructive thoughts, I felt a warm, little hand grasp my shoulder; I turned to find my little sister Victoria behind me with a saddened expression. As if reading my thoughts, Victoria said "it's not you, sissy, it couldn't be you; maybe he just got cold feet is all." I smiled half-heartedly at my sister's thoughts, then I shook my head and sniffed.

"It was me, dear, I pushed him too hard; I was...and am ready to start a family, but he, I do not think he is. He wants to, but deep down inside I don't think he's ready yet; I should've kept quiet. Oh, what hell this day has been!" I cried slamming my head down upon my arms and sighing; Victoria patted my back.

"I can't imagine being stuck in such a torturous room; I would certainly go mad! But you made it, sissy; then, you were almost drowned by the Vicomte, but, you made it! Then, this happens...sissy; you made it through our parent's demise, _and_ you still took care of me!" Victoria walked around me and sat on my lap, pushing my hair out of my face "you're incredible...everything will turn out capital, it usually does; you'll make it through this, you will." Said she hugging me; her words were sweet, and true, but they didn't shake the terrible feeling that rested in my gut.

I stood and she jumped off of my lap "Where are you going?" Asked she as I put on my purple cloak and took up a bouquet of daisies, I sighed and turned to her.

"I need guidance" I whispered, her brows furrowed; I kissed her forehead and went to the Opera Populaire's stables, telling the driver to take me to the cemetery.


	16. Chapter Twenty Six

_**Chapter Twenty Six: Guidance from Little Lottie**_

November 6th, 1910, 7:30pm

The hansom came to a slow halt as we neared the entrance of the cemetery. I got out and paid the man, I turned and listened as the hansom turned away and quietly trotted back to the Opera Populaire; I sighed and slowly walked through the cemetery, noticing names and observing weather beaten tombstones. Dead leaves crunched under my feet as the cold wind plucked them from the trees and blew them into a worn down path; the clouds darkened and a few raindrops fell onto my head, causing me to pull up my hood. My parents graves were outdoors, next to each other, at the heart of the cemetery; my mother, Christine Daae, had a fanciful tombstone, whimsical, just like her. Whilst, my father, Raoul de Chagny, had a sterner tombstone, with less designs; both were made of white marble.

I knelt down to their graves and buried six daises each before their tombstones; I sniffled at staring at their names and I could hear their voices mingling in my head. I remembered something which Christine used to always say to me "Little Lottie thought of everything and nothing. Her father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music...her father promised her...her father promised her. Then, her father's promise came through...and the Angel of Music sang songs in her head...the Angel of Music sang songs in her head." I paused and made up my own ending "Little Lottie then had a Littler Lottie, and Little Lottie promised Littler Lottie that the Angel of Music would sing songs in her head...the Angel of Music would sing songs in her head...this, is what Little Lottie promised her."

I whispered, staring at my mother's tombstone; I sat on my knees before their graves and sighed "well, Little Lottie, you kept your promise; I have met the Angel of Music. Littler Lottie turned him away, accidently, Littler Lottie got so excited; a little _too_ excited. This excitement, and Littler Lottie's big mouth, caused the Angel of Music to turn away from her; to turn away from her at what was supposed to be her happiest hour. Littler Lottie wants a family, Littler Lottie wanted to be a mother...then, Littler Lottie realized, that she was; Littler Lottie was a mother to her sister, Littlest Lottie. Littlest Lottie relied on Littler Lottie for care and nurture, and love and warmth; Littler Lottie did all of these things without realizing it, until, Littlest Lottie told her she had.

Littler Lottie had been a mother for the past few years of her life without knowing it! How silly of Littler Lottie? But, Littler Lottie was verging on her twentieth year; and Littler Lottie isn't going to be young but for so long. Littler Lottie fell in love with the Angel of Music, and they were to be married, this day; but the Angel of Music thought bad of himself, and in trying to cheer him up, Littler Lottie revealed her desire to start a new family with the Angel. The Angel shied away from Littler Lottie and showed her his real self; Littler Lottie thought him the most beautiful sight she had seen in years, and this she told the Angel.

But the Angel denied, and in denying, he told Little Lottie that she would be better without him; not 'tied down' to a monster...an Angel of Hell. Littler Lottie argued, telling the Angel how beautiful he was to her; but the Angel did not believe Littler Lottie, and the Angel of Music...he disappeared before her eyes. Littler Lottie pleaded and pried for him to return to her, but the Angel stayed away; killing Littler Lottie. Littler Lottie is confused, saddened, and angry at herself; how will her Angel of Music...her Angel of Heaven return to her? Will her Angel return?

Littler Lottie is in need of guidance, so she went to Little Lottie...and now, Littler Lottie is awaiting an answer from Little Lottie." I finished, sighing and biting my bottom lip; but nothing happened, save the distant rumble of thunder and a cold whip of the wind. At this moment the once distant rumble turned into a crash right above my head and then, cold raindrops fell from the skies and landed on the earth below, not to mention, me. I stood from my parents graves, turned and began walking out of the graveyard; when I thought I heard my mother's voice. I pushed it off as my delusional self and continued to walk out of the cemetery; that's when it came louder, I turned towards her grave to find my father's daisies wilting from the rain, but my mothers standing as straight as a nail.

Now, lightening struck a nearby mausoleum and broke off limestone; sending it falling to the ground. I walked to it to find the edge black and charred, along with being deformed; like the face of the Opera Ghost. I touched the limestone and pushed off the charred bits, underneath it was pure, beautiful, white limestone; the most beautiful limestone I had ever seen. I smiled "thank you, Little Lottie" I whispered, turning and walking out of the cemetery.

_**Back at the Opera Populaire...**_

I returned, soaking wet from head to toe; my dress and cloak stuck to me as my shoes squished when I attempted to walk to my dressing room. My dressing room was abandoned when I returned, I threw off my cloak and sat down in a wooden chair; slipping my shoes off as well. I sighed and slowly fell to sleep...

_**A few hours later...**_

I woke to find the rain and thunder stopped, the clock read that it was midnight and I felt that my room was a bit stuffy; so, I slipped on my cold, damp shoes and pulled on my damp cloak. I slowly and quietly opened my door, slipping my keys into my pocket, closed the door, and started meandering around the Opera House. During the day and afternoon the Opera House's splendor shown, but at night, it looked to be a haunted house of some sort; gas lights from the world outside threw ghostly shadows through the windows and the abandoned opera boxes still looked to house people! I shuddered from the thought of hundreds of ghosts watching me as I made my trek across the stage; then, there was a sudden gust of cold air that gave me goose bumps. I turned around and around, but I did not see an open window or door; neither did I see a person.

I sighed and walked a bit quicker, checking over my shoulder every once in a while. I walked backstage and came to the winding, iron, staircase that led to the roof; I decided 'why not?' and slowly, silently started the long climb to the roof of the Opera Populaire.

_**On the roof...**_

The wind was even more chill and blew in harder gusts; but, I wasn't fazed by this. I walked to the side of the roof, next to an angel opening her arms (and wings) and sat down "ouch!" I cried as I felt something sharp poke my hip; I turned to find nothing on the ledge and started rummaging in my pockets. Sure enough, in my pocket I found the key with the word 'life' on it, and I found a very peculiar thing to be in _my_ pockets...it was a small knife, not much bigger than a letter opener; the handle was ivory and engraved upon it was a struggle between two men, one with horns and one with a halo. These two men were both holding on to another man, the man with the halo holding the left arm and the man with the horns holding the right arm; I then realized that this engraving shown the struggle of good and evil.

The knife looked to have been just sharpened; for, I cut the tip of my index finger just by ghosting my finger over the blade. I sat down upon the ledge and turned the knife over in my hands, admiring it in the moonlight; that's when horrid, sad ideas started presenting themselves, ideas that would leave Victoria without a blood relation. I set down the knife beside me and sighed "Little Lottie thought of everything...and nothing..." I whispered "Littler Lottie's mind was crammed with the only thing she'd known...and Littlest Lottie, well, she was off chasing dragonflies; and it seemed that...that Littler Lottie was the only one that was sad. Until her Angel came along, rather, she came to her Angel...and then, her Angel of Music disappeared...leaving Littler Lottie alone, when she was supposed to be her happiest...with him...with him." Said I, sighing, and turning towards the great city of Paris and admiring the illuminated Eiffel Tower.

"Littler Lottie needs to stop thinking" someone said from behind me, I turned around to see Mamma Giry, smiling, she opened her arms and enveloped me in a hug. "He'll come back to you, Littler Lottie, your Angel of Heaven will return; he has some things he must think out. Things he must prepare for you, his living wife...like, a flat, new gowns, even a real wedding; do not fret, dear, he is just planning for your life ahead." Said she, patting my back; I doubted this, I denied this, and I told her. I chuckled and she pulled away from me.

"He said, and I quote _'I cannot bind you to such a monster'_ and then he jumped off of the small boat and into the lake; I've told him and told him how beautiful and wonderful he is to me! Especially, without the mask; he does not believe me, my Don Juan does not believe me...Oh, Mamma!" I cried, throwing myself into her arms and sobbing into her shoulder; she sighed. Then, she violently pushed me off of her, I stumbled back and hit the ledge; my tears stopped and I stared at Mamma Giry in utter bafflement.

"Stop crying, child! It seems that is all you do! Cry...cry...cry...you're a nineteen year old baby! Shall I fetch you diapers from the market? Or would you rather go sleep in a crib?

Cry...cry...cry, that's all you do! Maybe, _that's_ why your Angel ran away from you! I would not like to be married to someone who cries all the time, gosh, I would probably snap their head! Goodness me, Elizabeth, be glad you're not dead!" Mamma Giry exploded, her face turning a cherry red and her hands balled into fists beside her; I could not answer her, I could not move, I was too much in shock to do anything.

She scoffed and sighed whilst I stood with my mouth gaping; I slowly lowered myself down upon the ledge and closed my mouth, almost too in shock to think. Mamma turned around and watched me, she opened her mouth to say something else but my hand shot into the air; my index finger pointing up. "Do not say, another word; Mamma, not another word." I hissed, now my fists were clenched, my teeth were gritted together and I felt my blood pressure rising as I stomped away; walking past Mamma and beginning the decent back to my dressing room.


	17. Chapter Twenty Seven

_**Chapter Twenty Seven: The Vicomte's Final Attempt at Courting**_

November 7th, 1910, 7:00am

I rose at around six thirty in the morning, but now it was seven; I sat in my golden fabric chair, holding the newspaper whilst a steaming cup of coffee sat on my desk. The door connecting my and Victoria's rooms opened and out stepped Littlest Lottie, yawning and stretching; she sighed and kissed my cheek. "How did you sleep?" Asked she, sitting across from me; I sighed and told her it was a bit broken, but, all was well. She and I went to breakfast as normal, where I saw a sight that struck fear into my heart; it was the Vicomte, looking completely normal, eating an omelet.

I shook my head and she and I got pancakes, omelets, grapes, bacon, and a bit of sliced cheese. We sat at the opposite side of the parlor; hoping he wouldn't recognize us. "But, how did he escape his chains? I thought the Priest and Persian had him tied up tight!" Whispered Victoria, looking frantically at the Vicomte's head; I shook my head.

"I do not know, ma chérie, but I am tired of this; the horrible game we are playing, I'm tired of it." I whispered taking a bite of my pancakes. Victoria became quiet and around ten minutes later, she spoke again.

"I know this is a...delicate subject, but...are you still the Opera Ghost's fiancé?" Asked she, looking to me as she cut her omelet in half; I sighed and slightly shook my head.

"I don't know that answer either" I said softly, poking my omelet. Victoria gave a weak smile and finished her breakfast; slowly turning her head, and then quickly turning back to me.

"He's watching you, sissy; he waved to me, but I did not wave back. Oh, he's watching you!" Said she with enthusiasm that I had lost; I nodded and finished my pancakes. I stood with her and we gave our dishes to a maid; Victoria reported that the Vicomte also stood and began to shadow us. I stopped and looked to Victoria, then sighed.

"Go to your room, chérie, go and do not turn back; promise?" I asked, she nodded and attempted to ask me why; I held up my hand to silence her. "Just, go" said I, and I watched as her little figure disappeared around a corner, and listened to her eccentric footfall grow soft and distant. "What is it that you want, Aaron?" I asked, turning to find him standing close to me with a small smile on his face.

"Oh, what has that man done to you? What sadness has he brought upon you? What has made that luminous smile disappear into darkness?" Asked he, falling to his knees and taking up my hands; slowly kissing them, but never loosing eye contact with me. "You ask me what I want, and my answer is you; I ask you what you want, and your answer is _him_.

Yet, _he_ is the one who hurt you, _he_ is the one who left you, Littler Lottie, on the day of supreme happiness!..._He_ is the one you should be turning away from, not I; I promise you, swear to you, that I will love you and never, never walk away from you!" He cried, quickly kissing my hands.

"It is hard to hear your pleas when you locked me in a torture chamber and left me for dead" I whispered and he shook his head.

"I was a madman, crazed with love and blinded by anger; I was going to make you love me. Now, though, now I see that what I did was so terribly wrong...now the madness is gone and all that is left is Vicomte Aaron Benjamin. A man who's only want is one woman...Elizabeth de Chagny...Countess Elizabeth Benjamin...it has a ring, you know?" Said he, urgently; I sighed and shook my head slowly.

"Aaron, you frighten me; you frighten me with being so unpredictable, one day you kiss my hands and the next you attempt to kill me. Aaron...I'm just so tired of being frightened; so tired of all this...alas, it may be over...no, no it is not over yet. It is on the cusp of being over, this battle is on its last legs; I cannot take this much longer!" I pulled myself away from the kneeling Vicomte and walked a few paces, before turning back to him with a saddened expression. "My hope is restored...only to be crushed-no, no not crushed...demolished!

..I cannot take much more sadness, Vicomte, I've had my fill of it for a very, _very_ long time." Said I, sitting down; the Vicomte hurried over to me.

"Let me stop the sadness, let me stop your tears! Let your hope be restored and never demolished again! Let us be happy together, forever, oh, please, Elizabeth, please let us be married!" He cried, kissing all over my hands and up my arms "Oh, I love you, Elizabeth, I love you!" He cried, kissing my arm again.

Now, my heart broke for this man; for, I did not love him. Oh, how was I to_ 'let him off easy'_? How was I to tell him that the only women he loved, did not feel the same way about him? The Vicomte saw my pitiful expression and sighed "please, Elizabeth, please let me make you happy" said he in a whisper, his voice breaking.

"Poor, unhappy Vicomte" I whispered after a pause, taking my hands from his and cupping his cheeks "poor, unhappy Aaron" I said softly, after another short pause "Aaron, I am not the one to cause your happiness, I am not the one to spark your love-"

"Yes! Yes, you are! You do not just spark it, you create a flame, an undying flame of passion! Oh, Elizabeth, sweet, wonderful, Elizabeth; if you could only feel what I feel when I see your face! If you could only know how I'd die for you!

How you are so close to me...yet, so far away." Said the Vicomte sadly, running his fingers through my hair; I shook my head and stared at the pleading Vicomte.

"Aaron, my heart weeps for you...for, sadly, I do not...I do not feel the same about you. I wish I did, Aaron, oh, I wish I did! You are, no doubt, a wonderful man; but, Aaron, you are not _my_ man. You are not the man destined for me...take Christy, she has taken a major fancy to you; I hear. She will do anything to make you smile, the ballet dancers tell me; I am sorry, Aaron...my heart weeps for you to-night."

Said I, turning my face away from the Vicomte; for, if I saw the sadness spread upon his face, I would surely break down. Aaron placed his hand upon my cheek and pushed my face back to his; I heard him gulp and sniffle, then, in a voice that broke with a stuffy nose he said "please, tell me you are joking; tell me this is not true! For, Elizabeth, I cannot live without you...I've lived thus far with the sheer hope of your hand; take that away...and I'll be a dead man. Oh, please say what you uttered was not so! Please, my love, please say that you were wrong!

Say that your heart will jump in joy with my ring on your hand! Please..." he said, fading into a whisper, a tear running down his cheek; my heart split in two, but I had to hold strong...but...what if I was wrong? What if my Angel ran away forever? What if this was Littler Lottie's last chance at love? Oh, no, this couldn't be so!

I did not love him, what was I thinking? Yet...and yet there is a part of me hesitating! "Vicomte" I finally whispered "I love the Opera Ghost...but" I continued, the Vicomte's eyes opened with hope; "but...there is a part of me...that doesn't want to let you go." At hearing those words, the Vicomte started hyperventilating; then, as I laid him against the wall, he grasped me with terrible strength and pulled me to him, connecting our lips. At first, I struggled, but then, I relaxed; he pulled me into his lap and continued running his fingers through my hair.

The Vicomte wouldn't let me go, even as my lungs burned and begged for oxygen, he wouldn't let go of my lips; all of a sudden, there came a cold wind and I was thrown from the Vicomte's arms, across the hallway. For a moment I laid on my back and just breathed; coughing a few times, but enjoying the sweet, sweet air, that's when I heard my Angel's voice. My Angel of Music's voice! I sat up to see my Angel of Heaven holding the Vicomte by his collar; lifting him a foot from the ground! "Don't you ever touch _my_ Elizabeth again, don't you think of courting _my_ wife!

She's _mine_ and mine _alone_, you incessant booby! How dare you guilt her into feeling for you? How dare you trick her into having _feelings_ for you?" My Opera Ghost yelled, all of a sudden I saw a Punjab lasso in my Angel of Music's hand...as he threw it over the Vicomte's head and dropped the Vicomte; yanking on the rope and tightening the lasso around Aaron's neck. "How dare you trap her in the torture chamber?

How dare you even lay a _finger_ on her!" The Opera Ghost growled, bringing the Vicomte inches from his face; the Vicomte was gasping and choking for air. Now, my Angel threw the Vicomte, making the Vicomte land on his stomach as he coughed; my Angel turned to me and quickly came to me, the Punjab lasso with the Vicomte at the end of it still in his hand. My Opera Ghost plucked me off of the ground and threw me over his shoulder, dragging the Vicomte along with us to god knows where.

**Hi guys! Yeah, I just read back through it and noticed I rhymed most of the sentences in the last few paragraphs. I am so...so sorry. It sounds really cheesy (to me, anyways) but I couldn't think up another 'good' combination of words to replace the rhymy-whymy ones (Doctor Who reference). Yep, so, that's it! Haha, enjoy the next chapters! Au Revoir! **


	18. Chapters Twenty Eight and Nine

_**Chapter Twenty Eight: End of a Vicomte's Love Story**_

November 7th, 1910, 8:00am

My dressing room, that's where my Angel of Music brought the Vicomte and I; he placed me down, gently on my bed, but yanked the Vicomte by the Punjab lasso wrapped around his neck. My Opera Ghost turned to me now and sighed "would you really...really like to be married to...me?" Asked he, I smiled and stood.

"I would _love_ to" said I, staring into the Angel of Music's eyes; that's when my Opera Ghost yanked the Vicomte up and stood him on his knees before me. The Vicomte looked so frightened.

"Tell that..to him. Tell him that you love me, and no one else; tell him how wonderful you said I was...prove it to me that you love me." Said my Angel of Heaven; I nodded to him and looked down to Aaron who wore a sorrowful expression, for but a moment. Then, I saw Aaron smile.

"You may tell me your love for him; for, Elizabeth, you have made me the happiest man in the world." Said the Vicomte, the Opera Ghost growled and tightened the Punjab lasso around his neck; hissing to the Vicomte to be silent. I kneeled down to the Vicomte and shook my head.

"Vicomte, I...I love Erik; I love the Opera Ghost...my Angel of Music, my Angel of Heaven. He and he only have I loved; he is so manly and suave and staggering...so mysterious, so handsome and intelligent...so cunning, witty and protective." I stood and walked to the Opera Ghost, placing a hand on his chest and standing on my tippy toes; puckering my lips. "So_...mine_" I finished, at this moment the Opera Ghost grasped me and pulled me into a kiss; a very passionate kiss at that. After Erik let me go, we both looked down to the Vicomte to see him staring daggers at Erik...and me.

"Angel" The Opera Ghost whispered breathily into my ear "would you allow me to rid you of this _vermin_ who scurries after you like a mouse does the Rat Catcher? Allow me, my love, to rid our love of this_ jealousy_ that pelages it..." He growled, kissing my cheek; I smiled and closed my eyes as Erik (A.K.A. The Opera Ghost) began kissing my neck.

"...Y-Yes...my, love..." said I, at length; I felt Erik smile and he kissed my cheek once more.

"To your sister's bedroom" He said, unwrapping his arm from my waist, but before I could leave the Vicomte asked to say one more thing to me; "be my guest, _sir_." Hissed Erik.

"Elizabeth" The Vicomte started, turning to me as I stopped before the door that connected my and Victoria's rooms. "Elizabeth, I hope your life is happy, with him; I hope he gives you everything you desire. Even though you do not love me, you have made my life worth living...and dying...just by being there; I would die for you a million times over, Elizabeth. It is a shame that I only have but one life to give for you...to show you how I care...to show how much I love you; goodbye, Elizabeth. I just want you to know that I have...and always will love-" Erik yanked on the Punjab lasso "-you" the Vicomte finished in a choked whisper.

My heart dropped and I looked up to Erik, who's eyes spat fire at the Vicomte; I sighed "Erik" I whispered, and the Opera Ghost quickly looked up to me "Erik, please, do not kill again! The police would surely catch you this time! I overheard the managers speaking to them, and they nearly caught you last time, my love!" I cried, looking pleadingly to my groom.

"Oh, do not fret, my dear!" Erik growled, yanking on the Punjab lasso "I will hide his body where _no one_ will find it" Erik chuckled.

"Oh, Erik! Lovely, sweet Erik! Please, for my sake, knowing that you killed someone...and being an accomplice to it wouldn't rest well in my mind...oh, Erik!" I cried, running up to him again and kissing his cheeks; Erik sighed and kissed me even more passionately than before! Dropping the Punjab lasso and pushing me onto my bed; deepening our kiss.

Then, we both heard the rope hit the ground and running footfall, moving away from us; Erik turned and we both saw the flash of the Vicomte's shirt as he ran out of my dressing room. I lifted my hand and gently turned Erik's face back to mine "Do not fret about him...my groom, look to me and love me...love me" I whispered as his lips came back to mine.

_**Later that day, in the gardens of the Opera Populaire...**_

Erik and I sat on the little cement bench, his arm around my waist as I cuddled up to him; we watched the swan family swim about the pond. The father swan swam protectively next to the mother swan, whilst the baby swans swam happily behind the mother; Erik kissed my cheek and I giggled. "So, you want to make me a father, do you?" Asked he, looking down at me, I smiled.

"Only if you want to be" said I, looking up to him; he sighed.

"What would you do if my deformity was passed on to our child?" He asked, solemnly, staring down to me; I smiled to him.

"It does not matter if our child has a deformity or not, it is _our_ child...that's what matters. It's _our_ bundle of joy, its something that _we_ brought into the world...something beautiful; I wouldn't act different as a mother, I would be as I would if our child _didn't_ have a deformity. Erik, you are beautiful; I hope and by god, I _pray_ that our child will become at least half the wonderful man that you are." I answered, turning to him and staring up at him; I saw a smile appear on his face, and then, a small tear ran down his cheek. He sighed and we both looked to the sun, which sunk behind the trees, it was night now and as I looked up to Erik, I noticed his eyes turned yellow!

"Erik, why are your eyes yellow?" Asked I, as he looked to me, he sighed.

"It's part of the deformity, dear. They're black during the day...and yellow at night.." He explained, I nodded and there we sat until the wind became chill and we heard the distant striking of a clock, the time we walked inside was midnight. Erik took me down to the house upon the lake, where he placed me in his bed and walked to his piano, playing a mellow song that lulled me to sleep.

_**Chapter Twenty Nine: The Story of Erik**_

November 16th, 1910.

It was two weeks since I had seen the Vicomte, but, I did see his servants cleaning his room; I decided to talk to one of them. "Excuse me, monsieur, what is going on?" Asked I, very politely to a weary looking man, a man I would of put at age fifty two or fifty three.

"Well, little lady, ya see, the Vicomte is movin' out! He don't want nothin' to do with this here opera no more. He told us he was bored, but I think he got the bejeasus scared outta him by that Opera Ghost" Said the old man, he had grey hair and a grey mustache; his back was hunching and he wore overalls, he acquired an accent I had never heard before. I nodded and thanked the man, but I was stopped by the Persian before my dressing room.

"We need to talk, Elizabeth" said he, I smiled and ushered him into my dressing room; where he sat in the golden fabric chair. I pulled up a small, wooden chair and sat quietly in front of the Persian; the Persian sighed. "Let's first get this straight" said he, leaning forwards "Erik is nuts about you...absolutely and positively in love with you...head over Punjab lasso." I giggled and said that I loved him too, the Persian nodded, but continued "two weeks ago, you and your sister were coming back from breakfast when the Vicomte was shadowing you in the hallway...Erik and I saw the whole thing...could you elaborate on why you let that_ salaud_ taste your lips again?" There was a short pause "because Erik was white with rage" the Persian finished.

I sighed "I wasn't sure.." I started "...I wasn't sure about he and I; I wasn't sure if he still loved me...I wasn't sure what he and I _were_ anymore. Yes, I was and am madly, madly in love with him; but, I thought he wasn't with me." I answered, the Persian nodded "Daroga" I whispered, and he quickly looked up to me with attentive eyes "Daroga, was it I that made Erik jump from the gondola?"

"No, it was his own mind that made him do that; he thought that no one could love him...he wished someone would; he first thought you were lying when you said how beautiful he was. He was in denial, Elizabeth, and thanks to yours truly, I made him see just how much you loved him; we followed you to the cemetery, much like Mamma and the Vicomte did. We followed you home, we watched you on the roof, and we saw your argument with Mamma Giry; then, Erik saw how much you truly loved him." Explained the Persian, I then asked the Persian how he could think that I would by lying about my love for him; the Persian smiled "the world showed him no compassion, no mercy when he was younger...only you, Mamma Giry, somewhat of the managers, and I have shown him compassion; you especially. Erik has given me permission to tell you his story...here we go."

Said the Persian, sighing and leaning back "Erik's father, as I have told you before was a stone mason and, of course, his mother stayed home; Erik doesn't have any brothers or sisters. Anyways, he says that his mother was horrified when he was born...his father was killed on a job and never got a good look at him; Elizabeth, his first piece of clothing was a small, fabric mask that his mother made him. When he became older, he understood his parent's horror, and, at that time, his mother had begun courting again, Erik didn't like that, so he ran away, only to join a carnival of gypsies where he was displayed as_ 'The Living Corpse'_ or sometimes _'The Devil's Child'_. At this carnival, he picked up a few things from some of the gypsies; for example, he met a healer who taught him the art of herbs and healing. Erik has always had a love for music and contracting...or as most call it architecture; anyways, this carnival about the corpse who could do amazing illusions, magic tricks, and ventriloquisms, spread by word of mouth and soon, it reached the Shah-in-Shah in Persia.

The Shah-in-Shah befriended a little sultana who ordered Erik to be brought to them; he was, and I was under the Shah-in-Shah's service, this is were Erik and I met. Well, the little sultana got bored very easily, so, they placed Erik in duels...Erik was only armed with his Punjab lasso as warriors for the Shah-in-Shah held long spears and swords. Just as you thought Erik was down and out, you would hear the whistle of that Punjab lasso in the air and a few moments later, Erik was standing on the body of a dead warrior! As you can imagine, this impressed the Shah-in-Shah _and_ the little sultana, later on the Shah-in-Shah commissioned Erik and we all soon discovered that Erik was a master architect, for he constructed the most elaborate and intricate palace in Mazenderan. This palace had so many trap doors and secret rooms, that the Shah-in-Shah could get around the palace without being noticed!

Now, at some point during this time, Erik became a political assassin for the Shah-in-Shah; Erik, doing this, used the Punjab lasso, which he was already an expert at wielding. Elizabeth, he can kill _anyone_ and _anything_ with that unique noose! Well, the Shah was so pleased with Erik's palace that the Shah ordered Erik blinded! But, then, he started thinking that even if Erik was blinded he could still make a wonderful palace...so, he ordered Erik executed!" The Persian paused and I gasped, I was on the edge of my seat and listened intently to what the Persian said; my heart was thumping like a jack rabbit's foot and my palms became sweaty in my suspense.

"It was only by my intervention that Erik survived" continued the Persian "I was the Daroga at the time, and a member of the royal house; and a body washed up upon a shore...my friends and I dressed this body in Erik's clothing, during this time the _real_ Erik was escaping to Constantinople; and no one knew of this, save, me. Erik was then employed by a ruler, but soon had to leave for the very same reason he left Mazenderan; he knew too much. The next bit is a bit vague, he seemed to travel around Asia, only to come to Paris and build ordinary houses; then, he signed a contract to help in building The Opera Populaire. During the construction he was able to make a sort of playground for himself within the Opera House, creating trapdoors and secret passageways throughout every inch of the theatre...he even built his home upon the lake in the fifth cellar. Where he could live, I quote, _'far away from man's cruelty'_...and there he has lived, working on his _Don Juan Triumphant._"

Finished the Persian, I felt the color return to my face, for, I lost it all when the Persian uttered that the Shah-in-Shah ordered Erik executed. I coughed and I felt myself breathe again; I had held my breath in my anxiety and suspense, and fear for my beloved. In this moment, my dressing room door opened and there stood Erik, holding a bouquet of roses; he gave an alarmed expression as he saw my baffled expression and the Persian's calm one. His eyes narrowed in confusion and he pointed to the Persian "what did you do?" Asked he, I couldn't contain myself any longer; I jumped up and ran into his arms, wrapping my legs around his and hugging him as tightly as I could.

I looked up at him and pulled his face down to mine, thanking the gods that he was alive and well as I snogged him. He placed the bouquet on a table beside us and lifted me into his arms; one of his arms providing a seat for me whilst my arms wrapped around his neck and my hands touched his face, his free arm held the back of my head, also playing with my hair. Reluctantly, I let him go, for, he needed air; he walked me over to the chair I had been sitting in and placed me back down in it, then he coughed and took back up the bouquet; giving it to me and pulling up a chair next to me. "Daroga-ahem-what did you do?" Erik asked as I slipped my hand into his; Erik brought my hand to his lips and softly kissed it.

"I did what you said I was allowed to do...I told her your story, all of it." Said the Persian "she turned especially white when I told her of the Shah-in-Shah incident." The Persian continued, Erik looked to me and I gave him a weary smile; his right hand gently ghosted over my cheek.

"You told her...everything?" Asked Erik, turning to the Persian; the Persian said he had and Erik sighed. "What do you think of my life?" Asked he, turning again to me and holding my hands.

"I think" I whispered "I think you were horribly mistreated by someone whom you're supposed to love with all of your heart; I believe that society is so...ruptured that they've pushed away one of the greatest people who walks the earth. I think that people were indeed, very cruel and unusual towards someone with such genius...someone who could be the best thing humanity has ever seen! Erik, I love you and you know that...so, let me give you what happiness you were robbed of...let me give you the love you've never experienced. Let me show you the compassion that you crave.. let me treat you like the king you are." Said I, standing and holding his cheeks; our eyes never broke contact of one another...he appeared sad at first.

But, at hearing my words, his sadness turned into realization...and then to happiness. Erik nodded slowly "yes..." he whispered "I'll let you do anything you want, Angel...anything." Said he, breathlessly; I smiled and kissed his white, half mask. I slowly, hesitantly, pulled away from him and smelled the roses, it was an absolutely delightful smell! Erik stood "Angel" he said softly, pushing hair out of my face "Angel I will fill the void that your parents early demise left...the void of love, innocence, happiness, and nurturing...I will fill it for you!

I love you, beyond counting! We'll go to carnival's together...and we can play the silly little games! I will nurture you, Elizabeth, I'll be there, every morning with breakfast ready...every day I will not leave your side and I will cater to your every whim. During the nights I will be there, next to you, sleeping with you...warding off the nightmares that once plagued you; for, I am your _living_, loving husband...and I will do anything for you." Said Erik, kissing my cheek; he then turned and rummaged in his pocket for something, he found it and pulled out a folded up piece of paper.

He quickly found a pen and unfurled the paper, hiding the name from me, he walked to the small table and quickly signed something on the paper. "Come, my love" said he, and without a moment's hesitation, I was by his side; he handed me the pen and pointed where to sign. "Sign there, my love, do not ask what this paper is for; I will tell you after you sign." Said he, I took up the pen and signed my name in the appointed spot; a large smile crossed Erik's face, then, he hugged me and kissed my cheeks over and over.

"My beloved, my Angel, the name de Chagny is behind you! Today starts a new life...a life of happiness and joy, for, you are now Mrs. Erik."


	19. Chapter Thirty

_**Chapter Thirty: The Long Awaited Day**_

November 19th, 1910, 4:46pm

My heart thundered and my fingers froze around the flowers as I stared at myself in the mirror. Victoria and Megan stood behind me, both in beautiful, red dresses, smiling to me. Victoria held a small, black basket filled with rose petals and Megan wore a red rose in her hair; like all of the other girls did. I was so nervous, scared, and joy filled! You, dear reader, probably know what I am hinting at, but, I'll tell you what happened days before anyways...

_**November 16th, 1910**_

A few moments after Erik removed his hand from the paper and said to me that we were legally married and I felt that my heart stopped. I stumbled backwards and felt a wave of heat wash over me, Erik quickly came to my aid and steadied me, the Persian stood and I became dizzy. "W-we're married? We're really married?" I asked in disbelief, Erik chuckled and said that we were, I was so happy, so excited, jolly, and all of the good feelings you can have...I felt that at once!

I began to hyperventilate, just as the Vicomte had days before, Erik looked to me with concern and sat down with me upon the small couch. He told me to breathe and calm down, but that didn't work; what calmed me down was, his eyes. Erik's shimmering, mysterious, black eyes. I got lost in them and felt myself entranced in the wonderful darkness of them; in staring into his eyes, I calmed and he smiled, warming my heart. I sighed in relief and hugged him as tightly as I could, he was mine!

Finally mine! Oh, does it feel good to call someone_ 'yours'_, to know that, someone loves you the most that they can, to know that you are that person's top priority. To love and be loved! Oh, it is unlike any other feeling in the world! Surpassing happiness and joy by a long shot, it is love...and nothing feels better than love.

Erik sighed and pulled me into his lap "I have already prepared the wedding mass and it is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. To-night I will give Timothy my ring to hold, and Victoria shall take your ring, along with a small basket to carry the rose petals in. To-morrow night we shall have the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties and on the 19th you and I will have our ceremony, and at five o'clock that evening, you and I will be ceremonially married. For, you are already my wife...my living wife..." He said, fading into a whisper, he then kissed my head and sighed.

"Where will our ceremony be held?" I asked, looking up to him; he wore a confused face for a moment, then it disappeared.

"Where would you like it to be held? I have planned much of everything else, including our reception...which is going to be held in the lobby." Said he, glancing down at me time and again. I sat with my brows furrowed for a moment, trying to think up a suitable place to have our ceremony, when it hit me.

"In the gazebo by the pond, in the gardens! That's where I want our ceremony to be held! Oh, won't that be beautiful, Erik?" Said I with excitement, Erik chuckled and nodded.

"It will be a most beautiful wedding, my dear." Said he, kissing my cheek; the Persian had sat back down in his seat and was smiling at Erik and I, not saying anything, just smiling. "Of course" Erik began, turning to the Persian "the Daroga will be my Best Man."

"But of course" answered the Persian "I've already planned your Bachelor party" the Persian finished, I smiled, that's when I realized I had to pick my Maid of Honor! I always had a hunch that Erik could read my mind, but this comment proved it.

"Get up and go, dear, go tell Megan she is your Maid of Honor, we haven't the time to loose!" I stood from Erik's lap, nodded, and hurried out of my dressing room, anxious to find Megan.

_**Minutes later...**_

Megan was sitting on the small, concrete bench near the pond, gazebo, two, gigantic willow trees, and swan family. She turned quickly as I came out "Elizabeth! What brings you out here?" Asked she as I hurriedly approached her.

"I have come to ask you a very, very important question" Said I, Megan's face turned to one of shock and then sternness and concern.

"Well, by all means, ask it" she said as I took up her hands and smiled to her, my smile reaching from ear to ear.

"Megan" I began "Megan, Erik and I are holding a wedding ceremony on the 19th and...I want you to be my Maid of Honor" Megan's eyes nearly popped out of her skull! She started blabbering and hugged me, crying tears of excitement into my shoulder.

"It is such an...well, an honor!" she whispered happily, wiping her eyes "oh, my, Elizabeth's getting married! This is so exciting! Wait...will you still be preforming here?" Asked she, her tone moving from happy to worried; I shrugged.

"I'm not entirely sure. Erik wants to buy a little flat somewhere, I can convince him to let me sing here; after all, I haven't been here very long! Don't fret, Megan, I can convince him!" Said I with a smile, Megan smiled and held my hand as I led her back inside the Opera Populaire.

_**November 17th, 1910, 1:20pm**_

Erik planned my Bachelorette party, which took place at a local carnival. He invited many of the girls to it, all of the ballerina's, the chorus girls, and some of the opera singers. Thankfully, he did not invite Christy. I had never been to a carnival before, so I followed Megan and did as she said. "Never, and I repeat _never_ let yourself become separated from the group; there are bad people out there, Elizabeth, bad people who would take advantage of you in an instant!

Always, and I repeat_ always_ stay by my side, hold my hand or we can walk arm-in-arm, two on one is better than one on one._ Never_ listen to the vendors, save, when they are food vendors and you are hungry, but, you mustn't eat _too_ much there. Mamma's picking out a few dresses to-day and we do not want you upping a dress size two days before the ceremony! Anyways, the men are also going to be at the carnival so, that will make it a bit nicer than a bunch of ladies going alone." Explained Megan as we drove to the carnival in a hansom, four other hansoms followed our hansom; for, we had many, many girls.

My heart pounded as we rode up to rod iron gates which were flung open on their rusty hinges and inside there was a wonderful, fun, din. Just by peeking through the small window in the hansom I saw how much fun there was! People were chewing on cotton candy, playing silly games, laughing, and enjoying their lives. I smiled and Megan got out of the hansom, she smiled at seeing my wonderstruck expression and helped me out of the hansom, hurriedly grasping my arm and walking arm-in-arm with me to the gates. The other girls were just as baffled as I was and stared in utter amazement at the controlled chaos around them.

Megan made them all walk arm-in-arm, anxious not to loose anyone. Wonderful, sugary smells came to my nose, causing me to sigh in satisfaction. Vibrant colors were everywhere, along with merry songs played by flutists and guitarists, the laughter from children and the happiness on everyone's face came to complete this wonderful scene. As my procession walked through the carnival we came to a giant wheel type thing with seats...this wheel had to be two stories taller than the Opera Populaire! Without thinking, I blurted out "I want to go on that!"

"What? The Farris Wheel? I've been on it before, it's actually not that fun" Megan said, with blasé as she glanced towards the structure, I sighed.

"But, Megan, I've never been on one before! Look, look how high it stretches! It must feel like your touching the clouds up there!" Said I, awe inspired by this ride. Megan sighed and shook her head with a playful giggle.

"Alright, you _are_ the bride, if you want to go on it, I will oblige you...come on, let us go get in line." Said she as we walked towards it; I giggled in excitement as we walked behind a man with a top hat.

_**Ten minutes later...**_

Megan and I stood on the platform, she with the look of utter boredom upon her face and I with my eyes enlarged, too excited to speak. As soon as the passengers cleared out, Megan and I took their places, I clapped in joy and Megan gave a half hearted smile. Slowly, we rose high above the carnival, high above my procession, and high above all of the wonderful fun. All of a sudden, I spotted Erik's wide brimmed hat and black cloak "Look, look it is Erik! There, down below!

See him at the game stand? Oh, he is such a wonderful man!" Said I, excitedly as Megan leaned over and caught sight of my husband. Megan smiled.

"I bet he is" said she, leaning back over to her side as we slowly reached the top, then, the Farris Wheel stopped. I asked Megan about this and she sighed "the Farris Wheel stops so we can get a good look down below...and so we can touch the clouds." Answered she, I smiled to her and looked down again to Erik, who was walking along peacefully with the Persian. I smiled and then the Farris Wheel began to move once more, taking Megan and I back down to the carnival below. Megan and I walked around more, looking at rides and judging how good they would be.

"I think that one looks fun!" Said I, with enthusiasm. Megan chuckled dryly and shook her head.

"You think all of them look fun" she said, I smiled and shrugged. There was a short pause, and then Megan sighed "I can't believe you're getting married...I mean, it's not even been three months since you stepped foot in the Opera Populaire!" She cried, looking over to me with an astonished expression. I smiled.

"Well, meeting him has been long overdue; most girls have been married for some years by the time they turn nineteen! Also, I knew when I saw him...that he was _'the one'_ so to speak." Said I, turning and smiling to her; she nodded.

_**November 18th, 1910, 7:00am**_

I was woken early to try on dresses, for, Mamma Giry had gone out the day beforehand and picked some out. They were all large, white, sparkly, dresses; after about ten dresses Victoria suggested we go to an actual store so that I could be fitted, this suggestion was agreed upon.

_**Twenty minutes later, in the store...**_

The staff pulled me onto a tall, circular, white, stool that stood before a full length mirror, then they took out yellow measuring tape from their pockets and began to measure my arms, legs, waist, bosom, and underarms. They ran around me like bees fly around a flower before landing on it and taking its pollen. This process of measuring and re-measuring took about twenty minutes to half an hour. After this, the staff disappeared behind a golden curtain and brought out several beautiful, white dresses that shined in the streams of sunlight that poured through the windows. None of these dresses _really_ sparked my fancy.

Now the staff brought out pink dresses, yellow dresses, blue dresses, and green dresses. That's when I spotted it._ 'It'_ was a black wedding dress that was covered in sparkles. Around the dress, a layer was pulled up to reveal a red underneath, and then, from there black ruffles ran down the dress. My heart pounded as I stood upon the tall stool and admired myself in the mirror, I smiled and Megan put the black veil upon my head.

For the first time in a while I felt...pretty. I felt downright gorgeous! I turned and admired my backside; seeing how the dress made my hourglass figure pop "I love it!" I cried, turning to Megan, Mamma Giry, and Victoria, they smiled and Mamma nodded, telling the staff we wanted the one I wore.

_**November 19th, 4:47pm**_

Now I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, with my two closest friends, Megan and Victoria. My palms sweat and a knot had formed in my stomach, from nervousness and excitement.

But, mostly excitement.

I wondered if Erik was as nervous as I was; I smiled at our reflections and gave a deep, relieving sigh. "Only a few minutes more, Elizabeth...a few moments until your ceremony beings!

_Your_ ceremony, how does it feel, darling? How does it feel knowing you're going to spend the rest of your life with someone you love?" Megan asked, placing a hand on my shoulder and leaning forwards, to see my face.

"It's so many feelings combined! I'm, of course, the happiest I've ever been, I'm nervous, a little frightened, and I'm so...so excited!" I said, turning to her, she smiled with calm eyes and then Timothy walked in.

"Alright, Mademoiselle Elizabeth, we're all ready for you. Here, I'll carry the back of your dress so you don't accidently trip. Wait, what about Erik? Oh, yes, mademoiselle, he is beyond excited; he actually played me a bit of his _Don Juan_, which, Mademoiselle Elizabeth, is very, very rare for him. You should ask him to play some of it for you sometime, it's quite beautiful."

Said Timothy, taking up the back of my dress as Megan opened the door and Victoria fell back with Timothy, her suitor. Megan walked beside me and gave me happy glances as we walked through the Opera Populaire, Pachelbel's Canon resonating through the building. My heart thundered as the door to the gardens of the Opera Populaire came into view, my breath was caught in my throat and my fingers turned cold. We stopped for a moment before the doors and I sighed again, Megan smiled "are you ready, ma soeur_?_ Are you ready to be married?"

I sighed and nodded, Megan knocked on the door in a pattern and there came three knocks back, then, the door opened.


	20. Chapter Thirty One

_**Chapter Thirty One: The Ceremony **_

November 19th,1910.

I closed my eyes from the blinding light as Megan opened the door, cold air rushed inside to greet me. When I opened my eyes and they slowly got acclimated to the light, I couldn't believe them. Had I been tricked? Duped? Where was everyone?

The garden was absolutely quiet, I glanced over to Megan who was still smiling "where is everyone?" I asked, Megan peeked outside and gave an exclamation of remembrance. She hit her forehead with her palm.

"They're all waiting at the gazebo...come darling, only a bit more walking until you meet your amour!" Megan said as she held the door whilst we all walked out, Pachelbel's Canon echoed through the closing door. Megan shut the door and quickly ran back to me, smiling at me and nodding, telling me that we could continue. As we walked closer and closer to the gazebo, I could feel the excitement, the joyous tension that filled the air, the light tramp of eager friends and the sighs of realization from everyone. Luckily, that day, that wonderful day, the sun was shining bright and there were fluffy, cottonous clouds floating about the sky.

The wonderful smell of baking pastries and freshly chopped wood came to my nose and taunted it, making me imagine my wedding cake; Erik behind me, both of us with the knife in hand, slowly slicing through it, my smile to him and him kissing my cheek. I held my breath for a moment and slowly let it out, staring at the plump, orange pumpkins that were failed to be picked from the vine. As we walked, our feet crunched dead leaves that had fallen from the surrounding trees, which were now almost bare, save the lush, green, evergreen trees. I wished and hoped my relationship with Erik would be like those evergreens, long lasting and always green...green with happiness, green with health, green with good fortune...and green with the love that was put into it. Now, in the distance, I saw the black shingles on the top of the gazebo.

My heart began to pound again, my hands tightened around my bouquet, and I gulped in nervousness. A red carpet was rolled out upon the path, and on the sides of the path were chains of flowers, white flowers. Megan stopped me before the carpet, took out a small flute, and blew into it; a few moments of silence ensued and then a band was struck up. The orchestra began to play a brilliant song which reminded me of the _'Moonlight Sonata'_ by Beethoven; slow, whimsical, and beautiful. I then remembered Erik saying that he had written a wonderful wedding mass, and I assumed that this was the mass.

Megan nodded to me and we began to walk again, the faces of my fellow performers emerged, they were in two lines, leading down to Erik in a black tuxedo, the priest in a red gown, a beautiful, flowered arbor, and a golden podium before the priest. The Priest, Erik, the arbor, and podium were all waiting for me in the white, paint chipping gazebo; Erik's eyes scanned me whilst my eyes remained on his face. Erik stood straight as a nail with his hands together in front of him, on Erik's right stood the Persian, also in a black tuxedo, but he wore his astrakhan hat, whilst Erik shed his wide brimmed, black hat. Fully revealing his handsome face with his brushed back, black hair and slick, white half mask. Erik reached out his gloved hands to me and helped me up the small stairs to the gazebo, he never let go of my hands as I stood before him, the black veil before my face and the bouquet lying on the podium with the priest.

Timothy took his place beside the Persian whilst Megan and Victoria took their places, near me, under the gazebo. Erik and I stared at each other for the majority of the time the Priest was speaking, once again, I got lost in Erik's wonderful eyes; it seemed that nothing else mattered in that moment, it was just he and I, no one else. Erik looked at me strangely and I heard my name called. "W-what?" I asked turning towards the priest, the priest chuckled and Erik smiled, his eyes were soft and humored.

Apparently, Erik chose the old way of being married, marriage by hand binding. There were no vows to be said, just vines to be wrapped around our arms and to sware to the other partner your love, trust, and loyalty. I realized Erik and my hands were bound, with very strong ivy and Erik had already sworn to me...now it was my turn. "Elizabeth de Chagny...do you sware to this man, these people, and god that you will give him your everlasting love, trust, loyalty and everything in between?"

"I do"

"Do you sware, on your parents grave, to god, and to him, that you will never cheat, leave him in time of need, or love another man as you love him?"

"I do"

"Do you sware to be the best wife and mother that you can?"

"Of course I do" said I, never breaking eye contact with Erik; Erik's smile seemed unfading as those last words passed my lips.

"Do you, Elizabeth de Chagny, take Erik to be your lawfully wedded husband? For rich or for poor, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, ...in life and in death?" Asked the priest, I knew Erik asked him to tack on that last bit. I smiled.

"I do, I do, I do, I do I do I do! Life or death makes no difference of my love...neither rich or poor, being sick or not...better or worse, I shall always love you with my whole heart and soul...and you will always be my king." I promised, never breaking eye contact with Erik. I squeezed Erik's hands in excitement as the priest smiled.

"Well then, by the power invested in me, as a priest and friend, I now pronounce you husband and wife...Erik, you may now kiss your wonderful bride" finished the priest, and as if on cue, the ivy fell from our arms and Erik pulled me to him; placing a hand behind my head and a hand on my back end. I wrapped my arms around his neck and our lips came together; our friends and fellow performers cheered, whooped, clapped, and snapped pictures. Erik had never kissed me as passionately before. When Erik did finally let me go, our hands interlocked and he helped me down from the gazebo, he then lifted me off of the ground and carried me bridal style back through the Opera Populaire, down the cellars, onto the gondola, and to his-ahem-_our_ house upon the lake.

"It's ours, my love" said he as he rowed me to the house upon the lake "it's ours...my, how I have longed to say those words! How I have longed to call you my wife! How I have craved and envisioned you, waiting for me, standing in the kitchen or in the bedroom...ready for my return. Oh, my love! We will only stay here for but a while, then, then my dear, we will buy a little flat somewhere...and, I'll take you out on Sundays!

I've saved all of my allowances for quite some time now, we both will never need to work again. We can go into permanent retirement, you and I, and then, when we settle down...then I will make you a mother. We'll have a family...a _real_ family..." he said, fading off as we neared our house upon the lake. I looked up to him and saw a dreamy twinkle in his eyes, he was daydreaming about our future...about the life he wished he had...about the life that he would get. I smiled and giggled as he lifted me from the gondola and took me inside _our_ home...our home, it has a ring to it, doesn't it?

_**A few hours later...**_

Erik sat at his piano, playing one of the works of Mozart, but I couldn't remember which one. It had a melancholic tone to it...a methodical rhythm. Now Bach came to my ears, a bit faster paced and louder, then Beethoven was introduced. The unmistakable, loud slamming of fingers on keys and moans from the piano as Erik attempted to get the music at a volume he fancied. I lay in _our_ bed, a small smile across my face as I sat up and glanced down at my nightgown, I heard Erik sigh and return back to the slow music of Mozart.

Earlier, I asked Erik to play me some of his _Don Juan Triumphant_, he asked why and I told him that I wanted to listen to something he spent all of his life working on. "Elizabeth, I will play you Mozart...I will play you Brahms, but not my _Don Juan_...Elizabeth, my _Don Juan_ **burns**." Said he, and he said this with such enthusiasm, that it made my heart break. How could he hate something he put so much of his time into? I rushed to his side and kissed his cheeks, assuring him of how good his _Don Juan_ was.

I knew he didn't believe me, but it was the only thing I felt I could do. "It's our wedding night" I said to him, massaging his shoulders and kissing his ear "what would you like to do, my husband?" I finished, he turned to me and gave a weak smile, he kissed my cheek and sighed.

"We have the reception to-morrow, but it's in the afternoon. Go get in your nightgown...I will join you in a few moments." Said he, loyally I nodded and hurried off into _our_ bedroom, quickly dressing in my nightgown and climbing into the swan bed that Erik said was _ours_ now. So, now, I sat up on my elbows and peeked into the hallway to find Erik was still seated at his piano, his figure was hunched over the piano and his head was in his hands, his palms rubbed his eyes. I thought of calling out to him, but I dismissed it and watched him...why was he in such distress?

That's when I saw a solitary water droplet leave his face and travel down his gloved hands.

Erik was crying.

Why was Erik crying?

Erik gave a shaking sigh and I saw him wipe his eyes, he straightened up, pushed out the bench, stood, walked around the bench, pushed it in, and began walking for the bedroom. He slowly climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms around me and layed his head my chest, I smiled "you know I love you, right?"

Erik grunted. "You also know that I'll do anything for you, right?" Again, a grunt came from Erik. "You know you can tell me if something's bothering you...right?" Erik looked up at me from my chest, I smiled and he sighed, he pushed himself up and kissed my cheeks.

"I know, my love, I know."


	21. Chapter Thirty Two

_**Chapter Thirty Two: Christmas Eve**_

December 24th, 1910, 2:00pm

"Come on, Sissy, come on! Look, they're almost out of them! We've got to hurry!" Victoria yelled, pulling me through the crowded market. I had a tight grasp of the young girl's hand as people ran all around us, threatening to split us apart.

One of my hands was in Victoria's grasp and the other held bags of last minute gifts for our friends, this bag was in front of my tummy. Victoria, even as small as she was, got me through the chaos and into the quaint little shop with pictures of girls with overhanging bellies hung upon the walls. Victoria instantly took me to the section labeled 'Girls' and began urgently searching for a piece that we lacked. "Ah ha!" Victoria cried, holding up a small, white pair of ice skates, I smiled and nodded, laying my hand on my stomach and patting it.

It had only grown a bit though, nothing like the ladies on the walls, not yet, anyways. I smiled as Victoria and I left the store with our loot, hurrying back to the hansom that Victoria order wait for us.

**_A while later, at the Opera Populaire..._**

We were on stage, practicing _Don Giovanni_, when our new instructor, a meek little man, yelled at us to stop. Our old instructor lost his hearing and was deemed unfit to instruct any longer, therefor, the managers made him a 'door shutter'. Our new instructor was a weasel of a man, a kiss up to the managers, but a devil to us, for hours on end we would practice, without a water or WC break. Once, this man had the audacity to demand me to take off my wedding ring! "Excuse me?"

I asked afterwards, I walked to the very edge of the stage and leaned towards him, for, he was sitting in the red, velvet chairs. "I said, take the ring off" said he again, this time, with annoyance. My fellow, performers gasped whilst Megan and Victoria walked beside me. My brows furrowed in astonishment and Megan tells me that my nose crinkled up as if I smelt something disgusting. My mouth was open for a moment, and I was wondering who on earth this man thought he was!

"Excuse me, did you just ask me to take off my _wedding_ ring?" I asked, lifting up my left hand and letting the diamond twinkle in the gas lights.

"You foolish girl, that is the only ring you are wearing; I did not _ask_ you...I _told_ you" He hissed, standing and walking to the stage, this man was short (I towered above him!) with brown, bushy hair with bushy eyebrows. His eyes seemed grey and he wore a blue, cotton vest with black khakis and shiny, black shoes; this man also wore a gold band on his marriage finger. Gosh, did I wish Erik was around to hear the imbecility in that man's voice, the audacity he used in speaking with me! Oh, this man's ego was getting larger than his coconut shaped head!

"_No_, my wedding ring is of my own personal concern, I will not take it off. How _dare you_ even think of asking me to? You should know a woman is partly bound to wearing it, the other part is because she wants to...you should know, you're married yourself." I said, angry but still using a polite air to speak with this man. At this time, we had been singing for three hours straight, with no breaks, our voices were cracking and all of us were crossing our legs and bouncing.

Oh, how I wished Erik would walk in!

"I am your instructor, you will do as I say" that arrogant man growled, my eyes narrowed and I felt my fists clench, I sighed and unclenched my fists, calming myself down.

"Instructor or not, my wedding ring is my own business and I refuse to take it off, _sir_." I hissed, my politeness beginning to melt away, I crossed my arms and let my wedding ring gleam and shine proudly on my left hand. I gave the new instructor a challenging look and waited for him to say something, Megan and Victoria stood behind me with their arms crossed as well. All of a sudden, I felt a tap in my stomach and I felt the intensity of my need to use the WC, my legs crossed and I folded over, Megan grasped hold of my shoulders and began to pull me away from the weasel.

"Where are you off to?" He yelled, his sickeningly high voice ringing in my ears.

"I'm taking her to the WC, which is none of your business, _monsieur_." Megan hissed, the instructor hauled himself up onto the stage and grasped my arm, yanking me back.

"She is mine during practice, you all are mine during practice. Her and your chains are _mine_." He hissed, that's when I_ 'flipped my lid'_. I yanked my arm back, my eyes smoked and spat fire at him.

"My chains are not yours! My chains and I belong to Erik and Erik alone! Your audacity strikes me, _sir_, you do not own anyone save your wife. I am going to tell all of this to Erik...and the managers, we dealt with your unbroken singing, your unending criticizing, hell, I almost broke my ankle doing a '_proper'_ twist. But" I pointed at him, my eyes bubbling with fury "when you start to mess with my personal life...that is where I draw the line, _monsieur_."

I turned and began to walk towards the WC when he grasped me by my elbow and pulled me back "You are _not_ allowed to leave! You will stay here and sing for me" He hissed, inches away from my face. Through gritted teeth I growled at him.

"Tell that to my unborn child" His face was one of utter surprise, Victoria, Megan, all the performers and I hurried away, to the WC.

_**A few moments later...**_

Screams erupted from the stage as Victoria, Megan and I came back from the WC. I walked back onto the stage to find our new instructor, hanging by his neck in the middle of the stage by a familiar Punjab lasso. Two or three girls screamed, but most of us cheered in joy; I glanced up, from the body to opera box five to see the silhouette of Erik sitting in a chair, watching. I smiled and hurried off of the stage and to the foot of the stairs to see Erik waiting for me with open arms; he enveloped me in a hug and placed his hands on my stomach. (I had yet to tell him I was pregnant...so, I guess now the beans are spilt.)

"Our child" He whispered, kissing my neck "...our child" he whispered again. "Do we have a girl or boy?" Asked he, kissing my earlobe.

"The doctor said it's probably a girl, but there's still a twenty present chance it's a boy. We'll be able to tell in a few weeks" Said I, he rubbed my stomach gently and my hands slid over his, and I felt him smile.

"My Angel of Music, it is a boy, I feel it. What would you like to name him? Ah, here's an idea, if it is a boy, I will name it, if it is a girl, you can name it. Of course, when we figure out which one we will discuss the likely names. Oh, my love, we're going to be a family...admittedly, earlier than I expected...but never mind that, my love, we're going to be a family...a _real_ family..." said he, I could hear the quivering excitement in his voice as he whispered into my ear.

I closed my eyes and imagined Erik, our child, and I running about in large wheat fields as the golden sun was sinking behind evergreen trees and a warm, summer wind was whispering throughout the sky and floating fluffy clouds along space. We were all laughing, Erik enveloped me in his arms and all three of us fell to the soft grasses below, laughing harder. Erik turned my head up towards him and kissed him, our child giggled and called for "mamma" and "dada"; I sighed in happiness and a tear formed at the side of my eye. "My love? What is wrong?"

Asked Erik, bringing me back to reality. "Nothing, my angel, I was uh, I was daydreaming" I replied, turning my head towards him, he smiled and kissed my lips.

"I love you, Elizabeth"

"I love you too, Erik"

_**Later on that evening...**_

It was rush to wrap presents. Victoria, Megan, Mamma Giry and I all sat upon the floor wrapping presents for our friends, but, the presents for them I had already wrapped. Earlier, Victoria and I had gone to a baby store and bought a few girlish outfits for the baby, but Erik said that we were probably having a boy, but there was always that nagging doubt that we were having a girl. So, Mamma bought a few boyish outfits and we wrapped all of the outfits together, I was going to give them to Erik as a gift. "I'm so excited, I'm going to be an aunt!"

Victoria cried, wrapping a present for M. Richard, I smiled, I had yet to tell anyone who I picked to be the godmother. Erik and I talked about it extensively, though, of course, I picked Megan but Erik argued that she was still a bit wild; I looked over to him and giggled. "You're immortal, Erik, we won't need a godmother, for, if anything happens to me, our child will always have his or her daddy" Erik wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheeks over and over. He had gotten out of our bed, disappeared down the hall for a moment, and returned bearing a green bottle.

"Drink it" said he "drink it and we will never, ever have need of a godmother." I had taken up the bottle to find that it only had half it's contents, I asked him how he came by it and his only response was "In my travels, in Asia", he said he had drank half and saved the other half for his wife...me. The bottle looked like one someone would acquire from an apothecary, I unplugged the cork and put it to my lips, lifting it gently and letting a salty-sweet liquid flow into my mouth. It burned as it went down my throat, but Erik encouraged me to drink it all. I coughed after I was sure I emptied it and handed the bottle back to Erik, who smiled and kissed me very passionately afterwards, rubbing my stomach and kissing down my neck.

"Elizabeth...Elizabeth!" Megan yelled, snapping me out of my memory. "Elizabeth, you've knotted that present thrice...are you alright?" Asked she, I looked down and indeed, I gave the present I had been wrapping three, red, ribbon knots. I giggled and assured them I was fine, I explained to them what I was remembering (not mentioning the godmother part, though) and Megan's brows furrowed "so...you're immortal?" Asked she, doubt swallowing her voice, Victoria giggled.

"I know it seems mental, but to prove it to me, Erik gave me a shard from a broken mirror and told me to give myself a fatal wound...Megan, I cut all the way down my arm and I stabbed my wrist. It hurt like hell but, Megan, I_ didn't_ die! That wound would've killed me instantly...it should've killed me instantly! But...it didn't!" I cried, showing them my arm and fishing the bloody shard out of a drawer and showing it to them, they gasped and stared at it in wonder.

**_10:00 that night..._**

Erik and I lay in bed together, my head on his chest, listening to him breathe. My hand laid limply on his chest also, whilst his right arm wrapped around me and his left hand drummed on his stomach. I closed my eyes and sighed in satisfaction, these were the moments I cherished so dearly. Erik gently kissed the top of my head and gave a small sigh, holding me closer and laying his head limply on his pillow. Over the sound of his sweet heartbeat, I still sware to this day that I heard the jingle of bells.

_**A/N**_

**Bonjour, Fanfictioners! I just wanted to say that if you've read 'Yellow' which is my other Phanfic, (I, personally, feel that it's more well written and less cheesy than this one) you might observe many similarities between this book and that. This is because I wrote 'Limelight' before 'Yellow' and I based some of the events in 'Yellow' off of the events in 'Limelight'. (To tell the truth, I never thought I would ever post this phic on here so I was like "Oh, she can have a sister! A baby?**

**Perfect! Marriage? Oh, that's wonderful!" ((I didn't actually say those things, but I thought them))) So, no, you're not going crazy, it was...a 'mistake' on my part (and yes, I am A: too lazy and B: entirely too overwhelmed with my other books to go change it) :D have a great day! Au Revoir and Allons-y! **


	22. Chapter Thirty Three

_**Chapter Thirty Three: Christmas!**_

December 25th, 1910, 7:00am

I woke by feeling Erik stir and stretch, groaning softly as his arms reached above his head. I smiled and looked up at him, lifting my head from his chest, he was staring softly down at me, his dark eyes shimmering in the morning light. "Merry Christmas, Angel" he said softly, twirling a strand of my hair, I smiled and kissed his lips.

"Merry Christmas, my husband" I replied and his left hand strayed down to my stomach, patting and rubbing it gently. We were laying in _our_ bedroom in _our_ house upon the lake, so no one could disturb us. Erik sighed and slowly rose from the bed, his gaunt but strong figure before the bed, he stretched once more and turned to me, I was smiling with my head upon his pillow. He reached out his hands to me, which, I took happily, and he led me into the kitchen where he sat me at the small dining table and kissed my lips. "What are you doing?"

I asked, playing with the strand of my hair that Erik had been earlier. "I" he started, opening a bottom cabinet and pulling out a black pan "am making you breakfast" he finished, turning and winking to me. I sighed happily and stared at him dreamily, oh, how I loved him! How I cherished him! How I worshiped him!

He knew all of this. As he was preparing breakfast he would steal glances back at me...at my enlarging tummy. It wasn't very big, but it was big enough to tell that I was pregnant. I began to wonder if he knew I was with child before I unknowingly spilled the beans in my rage at our now ex instructor. "Yes" Erik said abruptly "I had my suspicions" he added after a short pause, I was a bit surprised.

Sure Erik had done that before, answered my thoughts, but it still stunned me. I smiled dreamily "oh? What roused them?" I asked as he stole another glance backwards, he was turned now to the stove, something delicious that reminded me of pastries filled the air around us.

"When you were in the bathroom, preforming the pregnancy test I gave to you, and you muttered_ 'oh my god, I think I'm pregnant'_ and then I heard several giggles..." he trailed off and a large grin was painted on his face, he sighed "...I almost fainted." He admitted looking back at me with soft, loving eyes. "I immediately ran to the Daroga and Timothy and informed them of the news, would you like to hear their responses?"

I nodded and Erik turned with the pan in hand and put a few pancakes on a white, china plate. He sprinkled chocolate chips on top and placed grapes and strawberries next to them, he placed the pan on a cold eye and turned off the stove, smiling as he brought over a wonderful breakfast. I always thought Erik was a great cook, but, in my entire life, I had never tasted better pancakes than those he made that morning! Perhaps it was that I hadn't had pancakes in a while or that my hormones were going mental because a small human was growing inside me, I didn't care which, those pancakes were the best! "Timothy smiled and asked that he was really going to be an uncle whilst the Daroga fainted" I smiled and giggled, Erik sat down across from me and held my left hand, my wedding ring shone brilliantly.

"When would you like to tell the managers? You'll need maternity leave and Megan, for the time being, will take over the spot as Margarita." Explained Erik, I nodded as I chewed the pancakes.

"How about to-day? It is Christmas, after all, we can make a public announcement!" I said excitedly, Erik smiled a perfect smile and nodded.

"It is, whatever you want, my Angel of Music" Erik said with a smile, I smiled and he walked round to me, lifting me up, sitting down on the chair, and placing me in his lap. He loved to do that.

_** Thirty minutes later...**_

A led colored quilt spread across the Parisian sky and small gusts of wind blew the trees at random. All of a sudden, little white specks of precipitation showered down from above, I gasped and excitedly pressed my hands against the small window. An outline of muddled heat surrounded my hands as my eyes widened "Erik! My love! Come quick, come look at this!"

I cried in excitement, Erik's footsteps were hurried and I turned slowly to see a worried look upon his face, I smiled "it's snowing! It's snowing on Christmas!" I bounced up and down happily, this was indeed a phenomenon to get excited about! Never in my life had it snowed on Christmas, never until now. Now when I was married and bore a child.

Erik smiled and let out a sigh of relief, slowly walking over to me and letting his hands rest on my tummy. His chin fell to my shoulder and he kissed my neck. He and I had come to the surface and were resting in my dressing room, awaiting the call of the managers, for; there was to be a massive present swapping 'experience' as they called it. It was basically secret Santa, save, everyone got presents for everyone else.

Erik sighed "we should probably get the presents ready, Richard said they would call at around ten o'clock and it is nine forty, come my love, where are they?" Asked he, I nodded.

"The pantry in the kitchen" said I, walking to the kitchen, my hand upon my stomach. Erik smiled. I opened the pantry to find hundreds upon hundreds of presents that I didn't wrap! "W-what?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Merry Christmas" Erik whispered in my ear, his voice had a sly edge to it. I turned and hugged him tightly, he chuckled and kissed the top of my head. I had only gotten him a few things, the baby outfits, special chemicals (he delved into science quite a bit), a new harpsichord (which was now waiting, wrapped, in my bedroom), books full of music sheets, a little, glass piano music box and I wrote a song. I named it_ 'Love Never Dies'_. Did I get him enough?

It was too late now, I had to hope it was enough, it was all I _could_ get him in the short span of time I had between getting married, being the Margarita and becoming pregnant! Erik hugged me tighter and kissed my ear "whatever you got me, I'm sure I'll love. You've already given me the most beautiful and wonderful present I could ever ask for; you. And now, now, you're giving me something I've only dreamt of, a child. What more could I ask for, my angel?

What more could I want?" His eyes sparkled and locked onto mine, tears threatened at his heart-spoken words and I kissed his chest.

"I love you" I whispered, blinking rapidly as my eyes began to sting, the imminent sign of coming tears.

"I love you more" He replied, laying his cheek on my head and kissing my temples, then my ears and cheeks. Erik hesitantly let go of me and out of the closet he took a large, red sack, he filled the sack with presents but there were still more inside! I recognized these presents, they were the presents I wrapped. He stopped and smiled at the few that had his name written on them in black ink, he would place his ear to them and shake them gently.

"No, no, no! You don't want to break it, do you? You must be very careful, one of your presents is quite fragile, it's glass" I said, I was referring to the piano music box, Erik nodded and set all of his presents off to the side, making sure not to drop them. There were two, large, red sacks filled with presents, and his presents we put into a different bag, we began walking for the door when I stopped suddenly, I just remembered his harpsichord! But, how ever would we carry it?

I was pregnant and he had the sacks. "What is it, my love?" He asked, I then noticed how effortlessly he carried the sacks, he carried them both with _one hand_! One hand!

I knew he was strong, believe me, I _knew_, but still this stunned me, this act of muscularity made my cheeks pinken with fervor. I coughed and he grinned. "You have another present, I-Its in my bedroom, but we can't carry it, it's too heavy and we might break it." I said, Erik nodded and set down the sacks, following me into the bedroom. His eyes widened for a moment at seeing the shape (I wrapped the harpsichord, it wasn't easy) but he stood back, admiring the job I did, it was as if he was a connoisseur looking over a Picasso.

"Go on" I said encouragingly, he glanced over to me "open it" he nodded and got down to his knees, tearing at the paper excitedly with his long, nimble fingers. He shook his head in disbelief afterwards, but he did not speak, he was too happy to. "It's a harpsichord from 1756, all of the keys play perfectly, but if any of them become broken in the next year we don't have to pay to get them fixed, we have a _'warranty_' on it." I explained, Erik ran his fingers along the dark brown wood as he walked around and around it. He looked up to me with beaming eyes, he hurried to me and dipped me down, kissing me.

"This is the happiest I've ever been" he admitted, pulling me back up and tracing my jawline with his long index finger. I nodded and agreed.

_**Ten minutes later...**_

Everyone was gathered in the lobby and all of the presents that everyone brought were heaped in a pile on the stage, including the presents Erik and I brought. As soon as the giving was about to begin Erik whispered something into M. Richard's ear and the manager nodded. "Before we begin" M. Richard began loudly, gaining everyone's attention and simultaneously silencing the room "the newly weds have an announcement." At that moment, I saw my friend's faces fall, they thought that we were announcing that we were going to leave, weren't they going to be surprised! I stood before everyone, holding Erik's hand.

"No doubt all of you know that one day Erik and I want to settle down somewhere quieter." I started, depression and sadness engulfed the room "but, not yet." I continued, I saw faces lighten "we've come to announce that I may need a few weeks off..."I trailed off, the crowd of my friends and peers all wore confused faces "..because, I'm pregnant" I finished, smiling proudly. Everyone stood, clapping, hooting, whistling, giving me hugs and sharing their congratulations. After the few moments of utter madness passed we all sat in chairs, Erik's arm was around my shoulder and his hand laid protectively on my tummy.

"Is it a boy or girl?" Asked Mama Giry excitedly, she had known I was pregnant, but really wanted to know the gender. I shrugged.

"We don't know yet, we can't know for another week or so, it has to develop." I explained and she nodded, I glanced over to Victoria to see she was weeping, a smile upon her face. "Oh, what's wrong, sweetie?" I asked concerningly.

"Nothing! I'm going to be an aunt!" She cried, bouncing in her chair, everyone laughed. The actual present giving out took the whole of one hour and a half, and that was with five people giving out the presents! Erik received his bag and he kissed my cheek. The first thing he opened were the baby clothes and ice skates.

"They'll learn to skate like their daddy" said I, everyone gave the exclamation of 'aw' at once. Erik's bottom lip quivered for a moment. Erik received everything I had given him plus a book on being a father from Megan, a stuffed bunny toy (for the baby) from Vikki, more music sheets from Mama Giry, a black fedora with a matching, golden tipped, cane and jacket from the Persian, and from the managers one hundred and fifty thousand francs! My eyes bulged when I heard the sum, but the managers just smiled.

"Make sure that child gets into the very best schools" said M. Richard, Erik nodded.

"I planned on it" replied Erik. For me, from Megan I received beautifully designed dresses, from Victoria I got many, many boxes of sweets and a silver pocket watch, from the Persian I received a golden bracelet with matching ear rings, from the managers I received a tiara. Then, I came to Mama Giry's present. I felt my heart hit the stage and my hand instinctively flew to my open mouth, covering it as my eyes widened, it was a music box, but not just any music box. It was my_ mother's_ music box!

The music box itself was a dark red and golden chest with a red, green, and golden tasseled pillow atop that, and sitting on the pillow was a monkey with a red turban on it's head, and golden symbols in it's hands. The legs on the monkey were crossed and it was dressed in male gypsy attire, when you wound the music box the monkey would tap the symbols together with the music and the monkey would rock side to side. I remembered many times when I would run into my mother's bedroom, without her knowing of course, I wasn't allowed inside there, and wind up the strange little contraption, humming to the song. I knew Victoria wouldn't remember it, she wasn't even born yet. I came back to reality to find a stunned silence had encased the room and everyone stared at me like I was an alien, everyone except Erik.

Erik knew. He was in my head, of course he knew! I cleared my throat "h-how did you c-come by this?" I asked hesitantly, looking to Mama Giry, Mama shook her head.

"Just wind it up and take a listen, tell us if it sounds as crystal clear as it did when you were a child." I nodded and with shaking fingers I did, there was silence for a few moments, until, I heard a spring click and gears turn and the harmony started! Erik held me closer to him and kissed my ear.

"Masquerade...paper faces on parade...masquerade, hide your face so the world will ne-ver know you..." I whispered.


	23. Chapter Thirty Four

_**Chapter Thirty Five: Valentines Day Party (Part One)**_

February 14th, 1911, 8:00am

Valentines day! A day dedicated to love! Yet, it seemed no different than the norm for Erik and I. Erik believed that a man needed to treat his woman like a queen every day, to love her passionately every day, not just one day out of the year. There were two causes of celebration that week, one, Valentines day, and two, the day of my birth.

My birthday was on February 16th and my friends were becoming increasingly irritated with me for not giving them a list of the things I wished to have. "Things for the baby" I would reply "I've got everything I've ever wanted! A loving, all-around-wonderful husband, a great occupation, and in a few months I'll have a baby!" Of course, with only a few months until the child's arrival, Erik and I had a decision to make, what in god's name would the child's name be? Erik and I had talked constantly about it, he would have the ultimate decision, of course, I would_ allow_ him to.

If you recall the agreement was that Erik would name the child if it was a boy, and I if it was a girl, my body was giving signs that I would birth a boy, so, we went ahead and crowned Erik winner. That day, Valentines day, I woke to being surrounded by roses and rose petals circling my huge tummy. Of course, with being pregnant, you get all the symptoms as well, I had learnt to control many of them such as the smells and the mood swings, but some I had not yet mastered. Such as the cravings, and morning sickness absolutely destroyed me!

At around six or seven in the morning I would become queasy and by nine o'clock I was huddled over the toilet yakking my guts out, but, Erik was always there. He held my hair, cleaned me up, and carried me into the kitchen. Poor, poor Erik! I demanded such strange dishes from him! I could not cook meals myself, for; I couldn't even see my own ankles!

Much less know if I would hit something when I walked! If I walked, that is, every time I attempted walking I would fall backwards, the load of our baby made me off balance, but Erik would catch me. Eventually, he just decided to carry me everywhere. This is how I figured out how strong he really was! Surprisingly, he was quick on his feet even when he carried my burden, sometimes he had to rush me to the WC so I didn't throw up every where.

"I'm sorry" I said softly one day as I was hunched over the toilet, Erik was kneeling by my side.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my angel! You are no burden to me and I will do anything for you, just say the word and it shall be done. Do not hesitate to ask me anything, darling, alright? Good, now, come, let me finish your breakfast." He answered as he cleaned me up, he lifted me from the floor and carried me into the kitchen, placing me at the wooden table and bringing over my requested breakfast.

Chocolate chip pancakes with spicy sausage and eggs scrambled with four different types of cheese. I clapped happily and kissed his nose as he sat across from me, a gentle, tired smile on his face. Yes, tired, during the night I would need to use the WC, I tried to stifle the urge as much as I could, for as long as I could until I felt I would wet the bed! For, I hated waking him, he needed his sleep, regretfully I would tap him and he would wake with a start, asking if everything was alright. I would smile sadly and ask him to take me to the WC, he would nod sleepily and carry me over to the small room, standing in the doorway and smiling at me.

His hair was often messy from the pillow and his shirt hung over his trousers. But never would he remove his white half mask, that morning, Valentines day morning, I asked him why. "I've seen your wonderful face before, my lovely, you need not cover it, I love it." I said happily staring dreamily at him as I dug into my breakfast. Erik smiled.

"I do not feel...complete without it, my angel. It's...it's become a part of me, now. For you, I will take it off, if you ask it of me, but I prefer not to." He explained, I had only seen Erik without his mask twice, once, in the gondola when he ripped it off himself, and second, when I ripped it off when we were making love. He didn't move towards it, but when I woke up in the morning it graced his face once more.

I nodded and smiled "did a name come to you last night?" I asked, placing a hand on my watermelon of a tummy. Erik dreamed often and dreamed of things that would soon happen (he admitted that he dreamt, the night before I yelled at our ex-instructor, that my stomach was four times its normal size and I was smiling up at him, caressing my tummy gently). He said it was called 'precognitive dreaming' and he was born with it. He also told me that he dreamt of the day I came to the Opera House.

Erik reached across the table and rubbed tummy, picking up my hand afterwards and bringing it to his lips. "It was a name that started with P" Erik explained "that is all I can remember of it, 'Pi' is how it started, a P and then an I." Erik finished, I smiled.

"What a name that will be!" I giggled and Erik smiled, kissing my hand again. That day, like most days, Erik never left my side, carrying me where we needed to go. That day, however, the managers announced _'a party like no other!'_ They called it.

_'Dazzling'_ and _'spectacular_', and I had to be seen. "Think of the publicity, Miss. Daae!" Cried M. Richard, although I told everyone to either call me _'Elizabeth'_ or _'Mrs. __Carriere__'_ the public (among others) still referred to me as Miss. Daae.

"Monsieur Richard" I started, Erik placed me in a soft, green chair before M. Richard's desk, Erik chose to stand behind me with his gloved hands on my shoulders, gently massaging them. "I can't see my feet any longer and Erik has to carry me everywhere because I can no longer walk, how am I expected to show at a party when I can't walk!" I cried, Erik bent down and kissed my cheek. M. Richard sighed.

"Mademoiselle, I have a plan for that. You need not walk at all, save, to get to the lobby. You only must stand and only for a short period of time! We, being M. Barnabus and I, want to publicize your pregnancy and get the anticipation level higher than it already is! Of course, there is payment involved, and a handsome sum too.

It is princely compared to your Christmas gift!" Explained M. Richard, M. Barnabus slowly walked over to join us.

"We do not need the money" Erik hissed "If my angel does not want to do it, she will not. If she does, then fine. But do not!-"

"Erik! My king, please, I-I need..." I carried off, Erik turned quickly, making his black, velvetish cape swirl gracefully around his astounding body. He ran to me and carried me hurriedly to the WC where I promptly threw up. The managers followed behind Erik and I and stood dumbly at the door whilst Erik wiped my face with a cold rag and smiled at me.

"I'm here, my queen, your angel of music is here." He said quietly, smiling a perfect smile. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek countless times whilst he lifted me from the cold, tiled floor and back into the manager's office.

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it through the party without becoming ill." I said softly, looking up to the managers.

"That is completely fine, Miss. Daae, you need not stay for the entire affair, only...uh...thirty minutes at most." Replied M. Richard, glancing concerningly down at me and nodding.

"Pray tell, what need I do at this party?" I asked, looking from one manager to the other, they smiled and Erik continued to massage my shoulders.

"Sing" both of the managers answered at the same time. I gulped in nervousness, I hadn't sang in almost five months! I placed my hand on my tummy, feeling the baby kick. I took up one of Erik's hands and placed it on my stomach, he smiled and stared down at me with soft eyes. The same eyes I lost myself in so many times, the eyes I was being lost in in this moment.

I always felt more confident and safe when Erik was around. The baby stopped kicking and the manager's voices brought me back to reality "so, what do you say? Will you sing for us to-night, Miss. Daae?" Asked M. Richard anxiously. After a lengthy pause, I answered.

"On three conditions. One, you must stop calling me _'Miss. Daae'_ and refer to me as _'Mrs. __Carriere__'_. Two, after this, you must not ask me to sing until _after_ the baby is born, and three you must agree to never, _ever_ sell opera box number five, to anyone, as long as this opera house still stands. Are we agreed?" I finished, the two managers looked at each other and smiled.

"Done and done, Mrs. Carriere." M. Richard said, extending his hand to me, I smiled and shook his hand happily. As Erik was about to lift me from the chair M. Richard stopped us, handing me a fat, extremely heavy envelope and a large box of chocolates. "Don't eat them all at once, you'll get sick" M. Richard warned, I smiled and M. Barnabus informed us that I would be singing a song of my choice, we thanked him and Erik carried me back down to the house upon the lake. I opened the envelope as Ayesha licked my hand whilst I sat in the living area and Erik sat beside me, his arm around my shoulders.

My eyes enlarged, it was full of francs! I then pulled out a note, it read:

_Dearest Margarita and Opera Ghost, _

_Here is the first payment of the francs that have been promised. The second payment comes after the party. In total, after the two payments, the francs should number four hundred and twenty thousand, buy your child the best of things. After the Margarita has the child regular payment and the regular schedule should ensue. Happy Valentines Day and Happy Birthday Margarita. _

_Sincerely, _

_M. Richard and M. Barnabus._

"Four hundred and twenty thousand francs!" I cried, turning to Erik in astonishment, Erik shook his head and chuckled.

"I wonder where those idiots are getting all this spare money from" Erik said, pulling me closer to him and kissing my head. He now turned his whole body towards me and rested his right arm on my tummy, feeling our child kick. He then placed his head on my bosom and sighed happily, but I had a terrible feeling in my gut about the party, and it wasn't just my nauseation!


End file.
